


Campo di Battaglia

by waywardodysseys



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Benoit Blanc is present & accounted for, Blood, Cussing, Death, F/M, Female Masturbation, Hot & Heavy Action, Linda is a sneaky bitch, Linda's a vicious bitch, Male Masturbation, Mob Boss!Ransom, Mobster Ransom Drysdale, Oral Sex, Ransom gets punched in the face, Ransom is an asshole, Sex, Sex Dream, Slow Burn, Thrombey Mafia Family, Thrombey family drama, Violence, mob!au, showdown
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 63,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardodysseys/pseuds/waywardodysseys
Summary: The Thrombey family rules their kingdom, and Harlan is king.You own a quaint bookshop in their hometown of Weston, MA, which is part of their kingdom. Your strong willed and gutsy personality charms Harlan thus you two beginning a friendship and not partnership in business.But what will happen when his grandson Ransom takes over the kingdom after Harlan dies?
Relationships: Linda Drysdale & Harlan Thrombey, Ransom Drysdale & Reader, Ransom Drysdale & You, Ransom Drysdale/Reader, Ransom Drysdale/You
Comments: 42
Kudos: 141





	1. Fondazione

**Author's Note:**

> This is published on Tumblr under the same name.
> 
> I'd like to thank my best friend [ mug_nificent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mug_nificent/pseuds/Mug_nificent) for being my beta and muse for this fic. Without her guidance and support, not sure how this would've turned out. 
> 
> This is a Knives Out AU where the Thrombey family is in the mafia world.

Storm clouds rolled in as the priest began his final remarks: “For as much as it has pleased our Heavenly Father to take out of this world the soul of Harlan Thrombey, we therefore commit his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Shall he ever be with the Lord. May ye one another find comfort in these words as we shall see Harlan again.”

The priest’s words began to fade as Linda Thrombey-Drysdale thought about the prestigious family business. She grinned as she pictured her son Ransom sitting upon the throne of the power. Her one and only son, the one person who deserved to run the company. It isn’t a company per se, it was more a network of people working for the Thrombey family.

Harlan had been the boss. The big man, the number one. He didn’t want to step aside; he didn’t want to retire. Though he had told Linda plenty of times: “I see much of myself in Ransom, my dear daughter. He’ll be the one to take over for me.”

But the damn fool wouldn’t give up the throne, wouldn’t give up the power. Linda had to take matters into her own hands. She had gotten her hands on some cyanide and arsenic, made a lethal cocktail of them, and poisoned the man but it didn’t work. Harlan had become gravely ill, yet he recovered.

 _That damn home nurse of his_ , Linda’s mind had raged when she paced the waiting room of the hospital.

She had plastered a smile on her face, spoken sweetly to her father all the while concocting another plan to get rid of him. Her Ransom, her baby boy, had to be on the throne. It was the only way.

Linda had thoroughly searched the internet, scouring for anything to be of use. He did have his medicines he had to take via syringe, without his medicines and without the syringes, Harlan would be lost, and dead.

Aimlessly nursing a scotch one blistery cold February afternoon she had found it. She had found the perfect way to get rid of the old man – air embolism. Linda had smiled widely, raised the glass in the air, toasting herself regarding this marvelous discovery.

“Clever Linda,” she had taken a small sip, “clever.”

Thankful Marta called in sick one day, Linda took it upon herself to take care of her father, to watch him. To watch him clutch his chest, gasping for air, arm reaching out towards her for help. Linda stood aimlessly to the side, out of reach, smiling down at him as he collapsed onto the floor of his bedroom.

“I finally got you father,” Linda had revealed with her dignified voice, “this time, I got you. My Ransom will sit upon the throne,” she pauses, realizing she has won. “I tried months ago to get you to retire. You said you wouldn’t! Then I tried my lethal injection cocktail and fucking Marta just had to ruin everything,” Linda informs Harlan ruthlessly as she continues, “I had to be all smiles because my poor father had to be taken to the hospital. And you lived. God, how I wished you had just died! And now _you are dying_. It’s sweet perfection father. Sweet. Perfection.”

Linda now wipes at her eyes under the sunglasses. No tears. She’s putting on a show for the family, for the friends, for the swarm of people who came to Harlan’s funeral. Linda looks over at her son. Her Ransom.

His face smooth, his brown hair slicked back, and his beautiful baby blue eyes hidden by aviator sunglasses. Ransom had dressed in a tailored black suit with matching black tie, and a crisp clean white button down top at her behest. Her son had to look presentable. Her son had to look the part.

Linda couldn’t help but smile. Her son was now king.

\-------

“Harlan’s funeral is this afternoon. Are you going?”

You look up from the paperwork you’ve been dreading to go over. You finally had gotten a chance when the place had to close for the day because of Harlan Thrombey’s funeral. Your staff had to go, you demanded they go. Afterall, you and Harlan had an agreement in place, and you owed everything – your business, your life – to the man.

“Shouldn’t you be going as well?” You inquire to your best friend of ten years.

Nora crosses her arms and shrugs, “I’m going as your emotional support Y/N. You and Harlan had a friendship, something more than just business. You _need_ to go.”

You sit back in your chair and sigh. She’s right. You need to go to Harlan’s funeral.

You had opened your quaint bookshop six years ago in the small town of Weston. You had spent nearly an entire year scouring Boston and its many suburbs with no luck then you decided to take a chance and extend your search to small towns outside of Boston. Your real estate agent showing you a listing in Concord (which already was home to a couple of bookstores), and then the small former general store here in Weston.

You couldn’t say no, you didn’t say no. There was a private university a few miles away. You knew you’d get some college kids helping you run the place in no time. And with the town’s population close to eleven thousand, you’d have plenty of traffic.

Then five years ago, you felt you had become a failure. You weren’t making ends meet, struggling to survive. And on top of it you had a visit from Harlan Thrombey. You had heard the whispers when you moved to town.

“Thrombey’s boss around here.” “Don’t make Harlan mad. He’ll cut your legs off.” “Be wise to pay him. For protection.”

You had pushed them all aside. You didn’t care about some man who thought he was boss of the town. He wasn’t even mayor. What gave him the right to demand so much from so many people? You had gotten the answer when he came and visited you.

“How may I help you?” Smile plastered on your face, voice cheery.

Harlan had glanced at you. His eyes moving up and down your body. “You don’t know who I am?”

Your heart had quickened, and you had wiped your palms on your jeans. “Unfortunately, I do not know who you are sir.”

Harlan had raised his white eyebrows, stepped away from the display table and approached you. His hand held out, “I’m Harlan Thrombey. I’m king in these parts…”

You had swallowed and taken his outstretched hand, “Y/N. My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s lovely to meet you Y/N,” Harlan smiles and releases your hand, “I’ve abided my time not coming here. Hoping you would pay me for keeping you protected and your business afloat.”

 _Protection._ “I don’t need any help. Weston is a safe town mister Thrombey.”

Harlan had been curious, was always curious when a new business came to his neck of the woods. He was the boss, he was king. He did horrible things to people who didn’t pay. Harlan didn’t want to resort to killing someone beautiful like you.

“I need payment Y/N,” Harlan stretches his arms wide, “otherwise this place will no longer exist,” he pauses, “ _you_ will no longer exist.”

 _Death threat?_ “Look, mister Thrombey,” you hesitate but continue, “ _I_ am _not_ going to be strong armed into paying someone else for a dream, _my dream_ , I’ve had since I was a little girl and walked into a bookstore for the first time. I’ve been scraping by and saving every single goddamn dime my entire life. I am not going to let you come in and ruin it for me!”

Harlan is struck with surprise, and respect for you. No one has ever had the decency to say anything like that to his face. He sighs heavily, “I will leave you alone miss Y/L/N. But know if I ever need anything, you must answer my call. I do not want to hear no from your mouth when I am on the other end of the phone. Do you understand me?”

 _Anything_ , his voice echoes in your head, _I do not want to hear no._

You had to say yes, needed to say, “yes,” you had uttered out. “Yes, I understand.”

It had felt like the whole world was collapsing in on you at that very moment. You had felt victory in one aspect but defeated in another.

“I will pay you a visit once a week as well. I’d like to get to know the strong willed, gutsy bookshop owner who’s moved to town. Agreeable?”

You had smiled weakly, “sounds good mister Thrombey.”

The following week he had returned as promised, blocking out the entire afternoon. You two had talked and laughed, even went through the store finding a book to read.

“I’ll read it and next week, we’ll discuss it.” He had declared.

For five years you and Harlan had developed a friendship, a close friendship. He had even sent for you when he became bed ridden in the last few months. You’d read to him then discuss the chapters read. You had even promised him new releases before they were available to the public. Harlan had even come to know about your personal life, inquiring about your family, your friends, your romances.

“I’m too busy,” you had laughed one day when he asked you about a significant other.

“I could find someone. If you let me of course,” Harlan hadn’t wanted to see you so lonely he finally admitted to you.

“Always alone, always working,” he had huffed out, “you need someone Y/N. Can’t spend your days wallowing away inside the bookstore. You have employees; take a goddamn night off.”

You had dated at his behest, but nothing came of fruition. The books were your friends, the written words your lover. You wouldn’t find anyone compatible to them.

 _Yes_ , you now thought, _Harlan and I are close friends. Were,_ your mind corrects itself as you think of your weeks now being Harlan-less. Your mind thinking of how you were going to survive, how the bookshop was going to survive now that he was gone because you had no clue who was taking over the family business for Harlan.

You inwardly sigh as you smile at Nora, “let’s go.” _Before I change my mind._

\-------

The first time you had laid your eyes on Thrombey Manor, you felt small and weak. The three-story brick house with its grey roof was massive and tall; its gothic façade seemed intimidating. Gravel crunched under your feet, the only sound piercing your ears as you approached the gigantic monster. Then two black coated, brown pawed German Shepherds approached you with ferocious barks but once they heard the housekeeper’s shrill, “quiet,” they backed off.

You had been welcomed by the housekeeper, Fran, on the front porch. She escorted you inside the old-world charm house and towards the two-story library. You and Harlan spent nearly every weekly afternoon meeting in the expansive room filled with books, lavish and polished antiques, and family heirlooms, including a display of real and fake knives, Harlan wanted to put on display for all to see. You had never ventured outside of the library, except to go down the hall for the bathroom. Then when he had become bedridden, you were invited upstairs to his bedroom where you sat in an enormous and comfortable winged chair. The two you devouring books, cups of tea, and decadent sweets as you talked about the latest release or the book you two were currently reading, or even family gossip.

You look at the house now, walking from what seems miles away because the driveway is lined with dozens of cars and there’s a horde of people milling about outside. You wonder if there’s a line to pay respects to Harlan’s two remaining, living children; his two daughters-in-law, one son-in-law, and three grandchildren. You had never met them, but you felt like you had over the course of you and Harlan’s friendship. He had discussed them thoroughly over the years once he felt comfortable in his and your relationship. There were times it felt like you were the only person he’d talked to about his family because you had no relationship with them.

“All hungry mongrels,” Harlan had frustratedly exasperated one afternoon, “clamoring to know what they get in case of my death. Sometimes, I feel, running this kingdom will be the death of me,” he had paused for minutes, “one of them will kill me Y/N. Mark my word, one of them will murder me just to get their hands on the kingdom. I don’t trust them,” he had released a heavy sigh, “except, maybe, Ransom. He’s the only one I see myself in. The only one I see who will run things like me,” Harlan had glanced over at you, “the only person I trust is you Y/N. You’re the only one I trust.”

 _The only one I trust_ , Harlan’s voice now echoes in your head.

You feel Nora rubbing your arms from behind you as you tuck your head down and wipe away the tears. “I don’t know if I can walk in there Nora.”

“Just give your condolences and leave. I’m sure this family doesn’t know _every single person_ paying respects.” Nora declares as she walks around and takes your hand. “I will be right beside you,” she pauses, “besides don’t you know Marta and the maid?”

You nod your head, “Fran, the housekeeper,” you sniffle, wipe tears away, “yes I know them.”

Nora smiles weakly, “I’m sure they’re here, and would love to see you!”

You look at Nora and smile. This woman loved you and was here for you. Her friendship meant the world to you, just like Harlan’s had.

“Okay,” you let a long sigh, “let’s do this.” _Before I turn around and leave._

Nora held onto your arm as the two of you slowly made it through the line and inside of the house. The family was situated in the library, a room you knew well like the back of your hand. You had only seen them in pictures. Though chance had presented itself multiple times when Harlan invited you to a gala event or a charity fundraiser, you had always declined stating you had to work or had other plans.

“It’ll be fun!” Harlan would nearly shout in excitement.

You’d laugh and shrug, “I have work Harlan. I’m not in the mood to rub shoulders with the elite. I don’t scream money like they surely do.”

Harlan would try to nag you more but eventually knew he’d always lose the fight. Though he pestered you about the holidays at Thrombey Manor as well, and you always respectfully declined.

You had felt as though he had looked at you like a daughter. Like the daughter he never had a healthy relationship with, a daughter who never asked for favors and money nearly every single day even though Linda had her own thriving real estate business in Boston.

You and Nora now approach the eldest daughter. Her white hair cut short, her eyes not red, which you could see through the brown plastic round glasses she wore. She never cared for her father, only cared for the money.

“Sorry for your loss,” you murmur.

“Thank you,” her clipped voice retorts. It’s tired and strained.

You smile, nod your head, and move on, making your way through the rest of the line offering your condolences. None of them phased by the hundreds of people who knew Harlan personally or through business, or who happened to meet Harlan once and he made an impact in their life one way or another.

Before leaving the library to find Marta and Fran, you turn to look at the remaining Thrombey family. You know they are all chomping at the bit to find out what Harlan left them, wanting to know who will succeed him and rule the kingdom. All of them look somber, no remorse, no sadness displayed on their faces. Except well, maybe, Ransom.

His piercing, beautiful blue eyes swept over your body then back up and looked directly at you. He held his hand out, the only one to do so. You shook it and offered a weak smile, “sorry about your grandfather,” you had whispered.

“Thank you,” Ransom had uttered, “we appreciate it.” His voice was tainted with sadness yet strained because he had been talking to every individual who walked the line.

You had withdrawn your hand and continued on. You had heard him utter the same five words to the person behind you, had seen him offer the hand.

 _Ransom_ , Harlan’s voice declares in your head, _he’s the only one I see myself in. The only one I see who will run things like me._

“Y/N?” A voice stammers from behind you.

You turn and smile, knowing whose voice it was, “Fran.”

Fran wraps you in a hug, squeezes tightly, “so glad you’re here!”

“Glad I ran into you,” you return the hug and sigh, “was afraid with all these people I wouldn’t see you,” you pull back from Fran, “is Marta here?”

Fran wipes at her eyes, they’re red and puffy. You recall Fran having a good working relationship with Harlan. “She was here earlier with her sister and mother. They left. Linda kept glaring at them like they were a disease,” Fran lowers her voice, “you know how much Linda despised Marta.”

Marta had told you as much when you two would meet outside of the Thrombey Manor for lunch or dinner. The two of you had become friends over the course of Marta becoming employed by Harlan for all his medical needs.

“I know,” you reply to Fran. You rub her arms reassuringly, like Nora had done earlier to you prior to walking into the house, “how are you holding up?”

Fran shakes her head, wipes at her eyes again and sniffles, “I’m doing my best. Still can’t believe Harlan’s gone,” she pauses, “he was doing well. Healthy, vibrant. Then, then,” Fran stammers as she sniffles and sobs simultaneously, “ _he just dies!_ ”

“Keep your voice down Fran,” you whisper as you look around at the people roaming about in the foyer. You grab her arm and escort her to the small covered patio outside, “be careful of what you say around here Fran. You know what these people are capable of. You know what kind of kingdom they rule.”

“The Thrombeys have ruled this area for years Y/N. Their name is synonymous with the likes of Al Capone and the Gambino family,” Fran hisses under her breath.

You had learned over the course of your friendship with Harlan, the Thrombeys were a notorious mafia family in the state of Massachusetts. The small town of Weston was their home base because the house Harlan lived in was on the outskirts of the town.

You frown, “I know Fran. I know. But watch your words. Plenty of people here could have wanted him dead. And there’s a family in there,” you point towards the house, “who could give an order and then _you’d_ be dead. I can’t lose another friend.”

Fran nods as she buries her head. “Whispers have been floating around. Ransom’s to take over.”

“Ransom,” you echo softly. You recall his blue eyes, his soft and sadden voice. You hope he will follow in Harlan’s footsteps, making wise decisions and running a smooth operation.

A loud racket of noise from inside the house snaps your attention, and Fran’s. Nora walks quickly out onto the patio.

“We should leave,” Nora declares.

You stand, “why?”

“A heated argument in the library began once you two walked out here,” Nora shrugs, “I don’t know the details of it, but everyone seems to be scrambling to leave.”

You nod your head in agreement, “okay,” you look down at Fran, “you should leave too.”

Fran shakes her head, “I have to stay. I’m semi-working today.”

“They didn’t give you the day off?” You ask angrily.

Fran continues shaking her head, sobs, “no.”

You kneel in front of her and grab her hands with yours. You touch her cheek in a kind gesture, “call me. Okay?”

Fran nods in response.

“Tonight, if you aren’t tired. I want to make sure you are fine. I want you to keep in touch with me,” you hesitate but continue, “maybe Marta, you, and I could meet for lunch once a week? Keep our friendship going.”

Fran nods, “I’d like that too.”

You smile, “good,” you stand then place a hand on her shoulder. You squeeze gently, “remember. Please call me.”

“I will.”

“Good,” you remark before turning and following Nora back through the house and out the front door.

The gravel crunching under your feet as you two make your way down the drive towards Nora’s car. Once inside the vehicle you both remain silent as Nora drives you back to the apartment you two share on the other side of town.

You move your eyes away from the rushing by scenery outside and look down at your hands. “Fran says Ransom’s taking over.”

Nora snorts, “that douchebag?”

You look over at your best friend and raise a brow.

Nora glances at you, shrugs, “I grew up in these parts Y/N. I went to school with that asshole. Thought he owned everything, thought the world revolved around him. Always,” Nora changes her voice to mimic Ransom’s, “‘I’m the center of the universe, get use to it. I run this school! I run this town!’” Nora returns to her normal voice, “motherfucking jerk he was.”

You sigh heavily, “please don’t tell me that turned you on or something.”

Nora scoffs, “ _fuck! No!_ Douchebag made his way through nearly the entire female population except the lesbians and dorks, and the chubbies.”

You grimaced at the word chubbies. You weren’t skinny, but you weren’t full figured either. You were somewhere in between. Growing up you had been pudgy, you dealt with the bullies, which weren’t many from where you had come from. You had slimed down your best before starting college, but the weight didn’t stay off for long. You gained a few pounds back and began to realize you needed to love your body just as much as you loved yourself.

“You told me you didn’t know until college you were gay.” You remark.

“True, but I did hang with the dorks. Besides,” Nora declares, “he’s still a playboy. If I were into men, I would _not_ want to ride his dick. Who knows how many women have ridden him or sucked him just for fun.”

“Thank you,” you sarcastically state, “for that wonderful picture.”

Nora snorts, “you know, it’d be surprising to find out if Ransom Drysdale is a big ol’ softy. I mean douchebag in the streets, teddy bear in the sheets.”

“You need to get laid,” you sigh as Nora parks the car outside of your apartment building.

“So do you honey,” Nora implies, “want to go into the city tomorrow? Find us some tail?”

It sounded appeasing. Maybe to get your mind off things and bury your sorrow into some drinks and find yourself some man who’d be willing to screw you into oblivion.

“Sounds good to me. Maybe Fran and Marta could join?”

Nora smiles, “the more the merrier and the more chance of you having a ride back here in case I find someone.”

You laugh as you two get out of the car and make your way towards the building.

Minutes later you and Nora are inside of your apartment when the doorbell rings. Nora rushes from the kitchen and opens the door.

“I’m mister Stevens, mister Harlan Thrombey’s lawyer. I am here to see miss Y/L/N.” The strained, older voice carries to the kitchen where you are. “It’s regarding mister Thrombey and his will.”

“Of course. Come in,” Nora mentions.

“Thank you,” mister Stevens remarks as he walks into the cozy and welcoming apartment, “is miss Y/L/N here?”

Nora opens her mouth to speak but you make yourself known by walking into the living room.

“I’m here mister Stevens,” you hold your hand out and the lawyer shakes it, “what is this about?”

The lawyer smiles the best he can then withdraws his hand from yours as he brings forth the briefcase he was holding. He places the black case on the coffee table then reaches into his jacket pocket and produces an envelope.

“Mister Thrombey requested I deliver the briefcase and letter to you on the day of his funeral. He also wanted me to mention no one else in the family knows the contents of the briefcase, along with what is written in the letter.”

You smile weakly as you take the envelope. Your fingers trace over Harlan’s scribbled handwriting of your name. You sigh, “thank you.”

Mister Stevens purses his lips together and nods curtly, “good day ladies.”

Nora opens the door and lets the lawyer out then rushes to your side as you sink onto the couch.

“I don’t know if I can read this,” you murmur.

Nora rubs your back, soothing you, “you can Y/N. I’m right here.”

You wipe at the few escaping tears. You had no idea Harlan had done anything for you or would be given you anything upon his death. You open the envelope and begin reading:

_**Dearest Y/N,**_

_**If you’re reading this, it means I am no longer in the world. I am gone and our weekly afternoon book readings will cease. Know I will miss them most of all, I know you’ll miss them as well.** _

_**Over the past five years you’ve become a daughter to me. You are a daughter to me. The daughter who doesn’t beg and plead for money when she has plenty of it herself. The daughter who brings a smile to my face daily and makes me realize there is goodness in the world.** _

_**I will miss you more than you know. Our friendship meant the world to me, I hope it meant the same to you too.** _

_**No doubt in my mind my successor will be Ransom. He’s the only one capable of running the kingdom effectively and at my behest. Don’t you worry about him. Be strong and prideful like you were with me the first day we met.** _

_**In the briefcase I’ve included something to help you with your bookshop, and if the occasion should arise, something to help you with Ransom.** _

_**I wish you happiness, success, and love (most of all this) for the rest of your fruitful days.** _

_**Much fatherly love,** _

_**Harlan Thrombey** _

You set the letter aside, wait several beats before reaching for the briefcase. You undo the lock latches then slowly lift the lid open. Inside sits a record log book on top of a manila envelope.

Nora stands, “this is all meant for you. I’ll be in my room.”

You nod as Nora walks away, leaving you alone with what Harlan has bequeathed to you. You reach for the book and open it.

Three columns are lined and visible on the pages inside. Names, dates, amounts of money written out by Harlan’s own hand. The writing in the book matched the writing from the letter. “This,” you begin whispering to yourself. You’ve watched enough movies and crime dramas to know what Harlan has given you. “This is a record ledger. Bribes, payoffs,” you skim through the entire book, “dating back to the late sixties, early seventies.”

Your eyes find the past few years. You notice all the Thrombey children are listed within the book. Also, Harlan’s two daughters-in-law, and his three grandchildren. But Jacob is crossed off, like some of the other names, which possibly indicated the debt had been paid in return back to Harlan.

You search for your name and the bookshop’s name, but you don’t see it. A wave of relief rolls over you. Harlan hadn’t placed your name in his book.

You set the book aside and reach for the manila envelope and open it, pictures sliding out and into your lap. Pictures of the Thrombey children shaking hands with various individuals. Linda shaking hands with someone outside of a morgue. Walt meeting with a group of men who have tattoos and guns. There’s a picture of Ransom, several pictures of Ransom walking from the entrance of a strip club. Other pictures showing Ransom taking something in exchange for money outside the same building.

 _Something to help with Ransom,_ Harlan’s voice utters in your mind as you recall the letter.

Harlan knew Ransom was going to be king once he passed. The elder Thrombey also knew you’d need leverage against his grandson because, eventually, the young Drysdale boy would come for your bookshop, and quite possibly, you.

Harlan was making sure Ransom gained the kingdom, but you inherited the earth the kingdom was built upon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> campo di battaglia - battlefield
> 
> fondazione - foundation


	2. Alleato o Nemico

A week’s gone by since Harlan Thrombey has been buried six feet deep. Business is back to usual in the town of Weston, and inside the walls of Thrombey Manor.

The tap of Linda’s heels against the hardwood floor greet Ransom’s ears as his eyes skim over a list of businesses and people who paid the Thrombey family for various things – protection, loans, gambling debts, keeping affairs secret. Ransom knew his grandfather had a book of these payoffs and bribes, but the book was nowhere to be found. Thankfully, his mother knew of every detail, every person, every business her father was partnered with.

“Still no idea where the record log is, mother?” Ransom inquires dryly as Linda sits in a chair across from him.

Linda sips at her tea, “I don’t know where Harlan would’ve put it Ransom. Maybe it’s in his attic study? Buried deep within the books he loved to devour. No one has set foot in the room,” Linda remembers being banished from that particular room since she was child to her old age now. A slight sinking of her heart didn’t want to go into the room either. Part of her missed Harlan and that room embodied her father. She’d feel lost and surrounded by him, worst of all she’d feel closed in.

Ransom stands as he sees a sliver of emotion on his mother’s face, “I could go up there—”

“No!” Linda shouts as she stands. She sets her teacup and saucer down on the grand mahogany desk her father used and sat at to do business when people would visit the house. “No,” Linda states more softly, “I will,” she pauses, “I will go up there.”

Ransom wasn’t born yesterday. He knew his mother and grandfather didn’t have the best father-daughter relationship, but Linda did admire the man for his business ethics and money. Ransom snickers to himself, _it was always about the money_. Linda couldn’t get enough of it. “I’m in charge now mother. I can handle going through grandfather’s attic room,” Ransom walks over to his mother and gently pushes her back down into the chair, “this is my home now. I can keep you from going up there too.”

“Just because you have the power now Ransom, doesn’t mean you can give orders _to me_ ,” Linda huffs.

Ransom smiles slyly, “I am king now mother! You wanted me in this position! And as I recall,” Ransom points a finger at her, “you begged Harlan for me to be in power once he’s dead. And I’m the only one he wanted to sit on the throne, to have the power.”

Linda stands again and points at Ransom, “don’t you forget it Ransom! _I_ ,” she emphasizes the word as she points at herself, “gave you power! _I_ gave you the kingdom! Walt could’ve had it but he’s too chickenshit and hangs with the wrong crowd. Joni,” Linda snorts, “Joni is clamoring for more money and my father would never place a female in charge of the kingdom! For fucks sake, she isn’t even blood! It had to be you!” Linda’s overcome with emotion and sinks back down into the chair, “and your father is a cheater, a liar. Harlan would never let Richard run the kingdom. Your father would’ve had the power, and people, to divorce me and get rid of the Thrombeys once and for all!” Linda points her finger at him, “it had to be _you_. Harlan said he saw himself in you. He knew you were the one to take over for him! He knew his grandson, _his favorite grandson_ , would control the kingdom!”

Ransom crosses his arms, “I know mother. I know. Harlan would never let a bloodless Thrombey run this kingdom. Especially not Joni, and definitely not dad.” Ransom walks and stands over his mom, rests a hand on her shoulder. “Joni will be dealt with accordingly, so will father. I will see to it.”

Linda takes a sip of her tea, hoping the warm liquid soothes her. “Meg is still a Thrombey. Keep that in mind Ransom,” she looks up at her son, “and your father did give me you.”

“I will do what I want,” Ransom states firmly, “you should know not to question the king.”

Linda nods her head as she bows it down towards her chest. She had plenty of experience with her father when he was in charge, not to question the king and his motives and actions, “I know son. I know.”

“Good,” Ransom smirks, “now finish your tea and go. I need to start assessing everything and get to business. I don’t need you around here questioning my every move. I have the reins. I will lead us to greener pastures and make sure the Thrombeys go down in history as the one family to rule all.”

Linda smiles pridefully then sets her empty teacup aside, “there’s my Ransom!” She stands and smoothes out her dress, “family dinner is still on of course.”

Ransom nods curtly, escorts her to the front door, “yes. Sunday evening at six. Everyone is going to be here. We need to keep the tradition going.”

Fran opens the door then helps Linda into her fur coat. She’s quiet as Linda pats Ransom’s cheek and smiles.

“Take care my son,” she turns to walk out the door, “enjoy the throne, enjoy the power!”

Ransom smiles as he watches his mother walk out into the chill of a March afternoon. The trees were starting to bloom, and the grass was getting greener as the earth became warmer. Summer would be here, and he’d finally be able to host parties out of the wazoo here at Thrombey Manor. Bring people from around the state to see he’s finally made it. To show those people Ransom Drysdale now has the power, the control and there was nothing they could do about it.

Ransom watches as Fran closes the door. The housekeeper kept her eyes down, but he could tell the woman was afraid of him from the day he moved in – the day after the funeral. Fran had not liked him before he claimed the sprawling manor as his own. Moving trucks brought everything he owned from his house in Wellesley. He kept the majority of his grandfather's belongings; sold the ones he did not need.

 _Out with the old, in with the new_ , Ransom had thought as he made his way through the entire house. Getting rid of Harlan’s useless antiques and setting up how he wanted the house. It belonged to him once he succeeded to the throne, it was no longer Harlan’s.

“Fran.” Ransom now announces.

Fran lifts her head, “yes mister Drysdale?”

Ransom smirks as he hears the quiver of fear in her voice, “make sure the chef is aware I will be having company for dinner tonight,” he begins to ascend the stairs.

“Right away, of course, mister Drysdale,” Fran responds.

Ransom continues to smirk as he makes his way up to the second floor. He thinks about heading to the master bedroom to change into something more suitable to head down into Boston, find some willing woman and bring her back. But he crosses the path of the stairs leading up to the third floor. He knows beyond the third floor is the attic room where Harlan hid away when he didn’t want to be found and wanted to be left alone with his own thoughts.

Ransom sighs heavily and turns towards the set of stairs and begins climbing them to the third floor. Once on the landing he’s facing the twelve steps leading further to the attic. Ransom makes his way up further and places his hand on the door.

“What have I said about leaving me in peace?” Harlan had shouted at him plenty of times when Ransom would sneak away to the attic.

“I only wanted to check on you grandfather,” Ransom would reply in a rush, afraid of the punishment his grandfather would dish out.

Harlan would sigh heavily, “there are times, Ransom, when I should take my hand and smack you with it, but I know your mother does that enough. You don’t need it from me too.”

Ransom now opens the door. The smell of cigars and books hit his nose before he steps inside the room. He felt like Harlan was the only person who saw him for him, who knew Ransom was a broken, self-loathing man.

“One day, my dear grandson, you’ll find some woman who will mend you and show you what love means,” Harlan had remarked, “someone who won’t take any of your shit and stands up to you,” Harlan had chuckled, “reminds me of someone I know. Too bad, I don’t think she deserves you. She deserves better.”

“All women see is the money grandfather,” Ransom had responded, “they want to tell their friends they were able to fuck Ransom Drysdale and hopefully get more than just sex from me.”

Harlan had raised a brow, “of course they see the money Ransom. People are hungry, greedy. I know you find warmth and release from a woman’s body but don’t play me for a fool. Your reputation may say one thing, but I know you grandson. You aren’t going to settle for less when it comes to finding the right woman.”

Ransom had turned his eyes away. He knew what he wanted; he wouldn’t settle for less. People made him out to be a playboy, but he wasn’t one. He had even started a rumor during high school he had fucked every female he could, but it wasn’t true. Ransom just wanted the power, the control. He wanted it then too.

“Is it why you’ve dated more recently?” Harlan had quipped. “Ready to find someone to be your queen?”

Ransom had been with many women through the years and they were beginning to look and feel the same. He’s only had a few semi-serious relationships, and had brought those women to family dinners. Shortly after returning home the same evening after dinner, they made their apologies and left Ransom heartbroken and alone because they couldn't stand to be in the same room with his greedy and powerful family. “They were weak Ransom!” Linda had yelled at him when he told her the following day, it had been a recurring pattern, “if they can't handle the Thrombeys then they can't handle you!”

“I’m not getting any younger grandfather,” Ransom had retorted, “you loved grandmother.” Ransom had enjoyed stories of his grandmother and grandfather. Their relationship, in Ransom’s eyes, was healthy compared to his parents’. 

Harlan had smiled, “she was tough as nails. A spitfire. I hope you find someone like her one day. Someone to tame the beast within you. A woman who isn’t afraid to let the beast show when necessary. You know like a lion tamer, knows when to uncage the beast and has the willingness to know when the lion is all roar and no bite.” Harlan had paused, lost in memory of his late beloved wife, “she knew when to tame me. She and I thrived in our marriage Ransom. There is hope for you.”

Ransom had grinned, “you said you knew someone? Maybe she’s worth it?”

Harlan had snorted and rolled his eyes, “you’ll never meet her Ransom. She’s too,” he had paused, thought for a minute, “she’s too good for you, though she’d be an excellent match. But I wouldn’t want the friendship she and I have to waste away when you eventually break her heart.”

Ransom’s fingers now travel along the spines of books lining the shelves of the attic room. He had been looking for a queen to be by his side, but he never found one who accepted him for him. All women saw was the money, the power. Ransom knew what he wanted, and he was not going to settle for less. He knew the future missus Drysdale would have to be strong-willed and confident. Someone who wasn’t afraid of Ransom dishing out orders to have someone killed, wasn’t afraid if Ransom came home with drops of blood on his clothing.

Ransom knew he was a beast, had been one all his life. He knew his grandfather was right, knew his future wife, his queen, would have to know ‘when to uncage the beast and has the willingness to know when the lion is all roar and no bite.’

Absentmindedly, Ransom picks a book from the shelf, takes it and opens the cover. Inside a stamped “West Bank Bookshop” logo greets his eyes. Ransom questions the business name, he never saw it on any of the paperwork his mother gave him. He would’ve remembered an intriguing and unusual name for a business.

 _Maybe it was from years ago_ , his mind thinks as he puts the book back.

Ransom decides to pick another book. He opens it and the same stamped logo is on the title page. He places it back and grabs a few more doing the same thing – opening the book to the cover page, noticing the stamp, and placing the book back on the shelf.

He pulls out his phone and begins typing the name into Google. The first link is for the “West Bank Bookshop” located in Weston, MA on Boston Post Road. Ransom tells from Google Maps the store is in between Theo’s Pizzeria and Leiby’s Garden and Flower Shop, both those businesses on the payroll. Ransom knows all the businesses in Weston are on the payroll with the Thrombey family. Well, except this one.

Ransom begins questioning himself. Maybe he skipped over a few sheets? Ransom shakes his head. He went over every single piece of paper, his eyes skimmed and remembered every name, every business on those pieces of paper. West Bank Bookshop was not one of them.

Ransom quickly moves his feet out of the attic room and down the stairs, heading all the way to the first floor.

Fran rushes out of a hallway, fear still displayed on her face, “what time do you want dinner mister Drysdale?”

“I don’t know, Fran,” Ransom huffs sarcastically. “I have a matter to see too. You may leave for the day. The chef too.”

“Are you certain sir?”

Ransom shrugs on his coat, “yes.”

Without another word Ransom opens the front door and leaves. He walks toward his ’72 Beamer as he puts on his aviator sunglasses. He had business in town to visit.

\-------

For the past week, you’ve been diving into work. With enough encouragement from Nora, you did head down to the city a couple of days after the funeral to get your mind off things. Marta had even tagged along, not Fran. Fran was stuck helping Ransom move into the Thrombey Manor and getting rid of a few things belonging to his grandfather. Fran had been insistent she was fine and would meet with you and Marta on another day.

Going to the club did get your mind off things, it also got you a phone number of a gentleman who had talked to you for nearly the entire evening. He was kind yet handsome. You knew he wanted sex, you wanted sex too, but at the end of the evening you returned home with his number. You called him a couple days later and agreed to a date. And now tonight was going to be the second date. He was meeting you at the bookshop when it closed at four, which was only a few minutes away.

The bell signaling someone walking in the front door chimed throughout the whole place. You made your way from the back towards the front, making sure to stand behind the register.

“Afternoon!” Your cheery voice announces. “May I help you find something?”

The gentleman doesn’t turn around. He’s wearing a knee length wool taupe colored jacket. His medium brown hair is slick with gel. He looks like he doesn’t belong in a bookshop. He belongs at Saks Fifth Avenue, or one of those other posh department stores.

You wait for an answer, but it doesn’t come. You sigh inwardly as you start to go over the sales for the day. There weren’t many, which was typical for a Thursday.

Your mind begins calculating numbers as the bell chimes once again. A quick glance at the clock reveals five minutes before closing time. You knew since working in retail the majority of your life, people loved to do things last minute, and when that occurred at the bookshop, you knew it meant staying beyond closing time.

“This is a lovely place,” comes a familiar voice from behind you.

You turn around and smile, “Ben! It’s good to see you.”

Ben smiles brightly. The blond hair on top of his head is about half an inch longer than the buzz cut sides. His blue eyes glimmering in the fluorescent light. “It’s almost four. I’m ready to take you out.”

You blush as you make your way around the counter. You give Ben a hug in greeting, “I do have one customer,” you step back and look into those blue eyes. You reach out and touch his cheek, feeling the light fuzz, “you could wait—”

A book is slammed against the counter, “I’m ready to check out.”

Both you and Ben jump at the loud noise. You spin on your heel and come face to face with Ransom Drysdale. Your heart skips a beat then beats rapidly inside of your chest.

 _What is he doing here_ , your mind begins to question as you numbingly walk around to the other side of the counter.

You reach for the book, but Ransom places his hand on the book as well. He leans over and gives you a sly smile.

“You want to tell me why you aren’t paying the Thrombey family?”

 _What_ , your mind begins to question then you remember – Ransom is now king. You must stop yourself from smiling. You have his grandfather’s record logbook. _Wait does he know? Is that why he’s here?_

Ransom eyes the gentleman you were canoodling with, “do you mind giving us a minute? Business matters to discuss.”

Ben looks between you and Ransom. He raises his eyebrows quizzically at you.

“It’s fine. You may wait in the back,” the words rushing out of your mouth before Ben can object. You point towards the rear of the store, “it’ll be fine. All business.”

Ben waits several seconds before nodding then retreating to the back of the store. Your eyes follow him as he wanders out of sight, then you turn them sharply to look at Ransom who’s giving a devilish smile.

“What do you want?” You ground out as you recall the lawyer mentioning the family had no clue what was inside the briefcase Harlan had gifted you upon his death.

“I want to know why West Bank Bookshop is not paying the Thrombey family.”

You shrug, “why does it matter to you?”

“Look,” Ransom huffs, “my grandfather died, so if you and he had some deal it’s null and void. I am in charge now. Every business,” he makes a motion with his hand going in a circle, “in this town pays us to keep things thriving, to give them protection against the criminals who might come into this town and ruin it for everyone.”

“Your grandfather and I had an arrangement.” You simply state.

“Well he’s gone now, so I expect a payment for protection.” Ransom grabs the book he threw down then makes way for the front door.

You follow him out into the chill of the afternoon, “I didn’t pay him in money mister Drysdale,” you enunciate his name with disdain.

Ransom turns to look at you as he stands beside his beloved silver Beamer. “And what did you pay him in?”

“I paid him in books and weekly chats.”

Ransom scoffs and opens the door, “’weekly chats.’” He throws the book onto the passenger seat, “more like paying him by letting him be between your thighs.”

The slap that hit Ransom’s cheek could’ve been heard for blocks. He hadn’t been slapped this hard since he back mouthed his mother nearly a year ago when they had gotten into a heated argument. He doesn’t remember what it was about. He’s too focused on the woman before him. Never has anyone been so brazen to do such a thing to him. No one who wasn’t family.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you seethe, “I didn’t tolerate it from Harlan and I certainly will _not_ tolerate it from you. He tried to strong arm me in paying him but instead I earned his respect, which was a rarity to do. You on the other hand don't deserve any respect! You spoiled trust-fund playboy!”

Ransom still feels the sting of the slap against his face. He looks at you, looks into your eyes. He sees the anger in them, sees the slight sadness in them. A light breeze moves through the quietness. Ransom inhales the air and smells the lavender and lily scent of your perfume.

“Your grandfather and I bonded over books. We had a _friendship_ , something you apparently don’t have with anyone. We understood each other and agreed to a partnership on his terms, on my terms. And I know he’s gone. And I know you are in charge now mister Drysdale, but understand one thing – I am not going to let you bulldoze me down into thinking you can just walk all over me and get your goddamn money.” You pause but continue as you inch closer towards him, “he saw himself in you. I’m not entirely sure if it was his personality or his business ethics, I hope it’s both, because know this, I am not going to let you come and take away the one thing I love. The one thing I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl when my grandmother gave me my first book and that book sent me to a world where I could escape what was happening in my life.”

Ransom realizes there’s something about you. He remembers your face from the wake, from the horde of people who mingled about Thrombey Manor after Harlan’s funeral. Ransom recalls looking into your eyes and seeing complete sadness. You were the only set of eyes he had looked at that day and saw genuine sadness. The others, Ransom remembers, just wanted to be present and make sure they knew he was in charge; he was sitting on the throne of power and was the new king.

He recalls his grandfather’s words ‘the friendship she and I have’ and ‘she’s too good for you.’

Ransom swallows, “look, I, uh, I,” he stutters. No one has made him this dumbfounded in years, “look, I’m sorry…”

“Y/N.” You spit out.

“I am sorry Y/N,” Ransom averts his eyes elsewhere before putting them back on your face, “I didn’t realize you were the one he was referring to.”

You raise your eyebrows, take a step back.

Ransom continues, “he said he had a friendship with someone, a woman. I remember him telling me on a few occasions I was not to come over on Wednesday afternoons. No one from the family could interrupt him on Wednesday afternoons,” Ransom thinks, “oh, for like, the past four or so years?” Ransom looks squarely at you, “I’m just remembering. Wow four years. You two must’ve talked about so much.”

You shrug and cross your arms.

Ransom sighs heavily. “Why don’t I take you out for dinner?” He sees you're about to shake your head and decline, so he rushes, “business dinner. Just business,” Ransom smiles, “we can discuss new terms. I’m not much of a reader, but if Harlan was willing to take a chance on you so am I.”

 _A chance_ , you think as you roll your eyes. Ransom Drysdale doesn’t deserve a chance, he doesn’t deserve anything. _But maybe he does?_ Wait, where did that thought come from?

“Tomorrow night?” Ransom inquires after seconds of silence.

You inwardly groan, “fine. The shop closes at seven.”

“You live above the bookshop?”

You shake your head, “no, I live elsewhere,” you hesitate, “you will never see it because we are just having a _business_ dinner.”

Ransom shrugs and huffs, “fine. I’ll meet you back here at eight. Sharp. Dress nice. If this is going to be a _business_ dinner, then I must treat you to a fabulous place. Wine and dine you to let you know we can be partners. Friends.” He says the word like he’s tasting a new food for the first time on his lips, unsure with a wince.

“Eight sounds fine,” you turn on your heel and head back inside the bookshop. You close the door behind you then face back around towards the street. You watch Ransom place his sunglasses on while he looks at you locking the door and turning the open sign around to say closed. He gives you a wicked smile then climbs into his car and drives off.

Silence stretches wide as you turn and face your beloved bookshop. You weren’t going to lose this place, your dream. For five years West Bank Bookshop was thriving, and it was because of Harlan and the friendship you two had created. Patrons not only came from Weston but from miles all around because Harlan told them to frequent _your_ bookshop and no one else’s. And you sure as hell wasn’t going to let Ransom Drysdale take it all away from you.

 _Fucking prick_ , you think as you walk behind the cash register and close it for the evening. It’s not until you place the deposit away in the safe and hear footsteps coming from the back, you realize Ben is still around.

“You okay?” Ben asks with his charming voice.

You nod and smile, “I’m fine.”

Ben sees you are not fine and gathers you in his arms, “who was that?”

You relish in Ben’s strength as his hands rub your back gently, “I told you about Harlan Thrombey.”

“Yes,” Ben hums lightly.

“That was his grandson, Ransom.”

Ben scoffs, “who names their kid Ransom?”

You giggle, “it’s his middle name. His first name is Hugh,” you look up at Ben with a serious face, “may we talk about something else? Please.”

Ben smiles then brushes his lips against yours, “we may talk about anything you want.”

You think, “where are you taking me tonight?”

Ben grins mischievously, “it’s a surprise.”

“Oh, really?” You question with a raised brow, “hopefully it’s somewhere with alcohol because I need a drink.”

Ben laughs, “you’ll get your drink. I promise.”

\-------

Ransom drives straight down to the nightclub he frequents – Elysium. He drives his car right up to the valet and tosses the key to the young attendant. He nods his head to the bouncers as he makes his way inside of the already booming club. The deafening music makes the walls vibrate and helps with selling drinks and getting people to find someone in the crowd.

“Mister Drysdale,” shouts the bartender for the evening.

“I’ll be in the VIP section, send up bottle service.”

The bartender nods and gets to work preparing what Ransom wants.

Ransom makes his way towards the set of stairs that will lead him up to the second level of the club. He wants to be away from the throng of people.

“Boss,” Julian nods as Ransom walks past.

“What’s going on?”

“Everything is fine. Music’s flowing, so is the alcohol.”

Ransom looks at the manager of the nightclub. Him and Julian have been acquaintances over the course of several years, one could say Julian is a friend, the _only_ friend Ransom has. Ransom had even helped Julian start Elysium from the ground up.

“Something on your mind?” Julian inquires as his hazel eyes travel over his friend and business partner.

Ransom glances at Julian then at the group of people roaming around the second floor, all with VIP bracelets adorning their wrists. “Plenty of things on my mind.”

“You have the look of,” Julian pauses, raises a brow, “satisfaction. Like you’ve accomplished a major thing. Like you’ve won a battle within the war,” Julian shrugs, “you are king of the Thrombey family now Ransom. Planning to take on the other families in Boston?”

Ransom shrugs, “I have to deal with something else first.”

A couple of ladies glide over to the table and make come hither looks at Ransom. He grins at them, deciding if he wants them to join but he can’t get _her_ out of his mind.

 _She’s too good for you_ , Harlan’s voice echoes in Ransom’s head, _though she’d be an excellent match_. _Someone who won’t take any of your shit and stands up to you, reminds me of someone I know. Too bad, I don’t think she deserves you. She deserves better._

Ransom was surprised by her strong-willed manner, by her no bullshit attitude. She definitely made an impression on Harlan when they first met. No one had dared to do what she had done to him or to Harlan, but she had to have. Otherwise her bookshop wouldn’t exist, and Ransom would have no idea who she is. She would be buried six feet under or possibly thrown into the harbor.

Ransom feels a hand traveling up his arm. He smiles at the model thin woman, “sorry babe, but I’m not interested.”

Julian turns and looks at his friend with a raised brow.

She pouts and scoots closer, “I can make you forget about the woman you’re thinking of.”

Ransom smells the alcohol on this woman’s breath, and can smell the cheap perfume. But all he can think about is the lavender and lily perfume _she_ wore. The stinging feeling on his cheek invades his mind and the scent of her perfume tickles his nostrils, making him lightheaded. He had desperately wanted to place his lips against hers to quiet her but knew there was a gentleman inside the bookshop waiting for her.

 _What kind of man is he_ , Ransom thinks as his mind becomes consumed with jealousy, _what could he have to offer her? Would Ben,_ Ransom sneers at recalling her saying the man’s name _, do everything in his power to make her happy? To protect her?_

Ransom slides out of the booth. His mind is restless with thoughts of _her_. “I need to leave.”

Julian looks stunned, “you sure you’re okay Ransom? I’ve never seen you in such deep thought before.”

Ransom grins, “I’m fine. I just,” Ransom points in a random direction, “I have to go. Sorry Julian.”

“No worries. Tomorrow night?”

Ransom remembers her saying yes to his offer of dinner and smiles, “no. I have a date, dinner. I need to get busy figuring out a place.”

Julian nods and watches as Ransom retreats from the VIP booth.

Ransom walks out into the chilly air of the Boston evening. The valet attendant steps out of his car, keeps the door open. Once inside the warmed-up vehicle, Ransom mulls over his thoughts.

 _How truthful was grandfather_ , Ransom questions as he begins the drive back to Thrombey Manor, _how much of an excellent match would she be?_

No one, no, no female has ever been on his mind for this length of time.

Ransom sighs heavily, “don’t fuck this up Ransom. Don’t. Fuck. This up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> campo di battaglia - battlefield
> 
> alleato o nemico - ally or enemy


	3. Blitzkrieg

Nora looks at you over the top of the magazine she is reading. “Still can’t believe you said yes to that douchebag.”

“It’s a business dinner Nora,” you retort, “Ben knows about it too, so don’t question me if he knows or not.”

Nora tosses the magazine aside and stands, “you’re going to dinner with another man. _Completely_ ignoring the fact it's _Ransom Drysdale_ ,” she says the name as though it’s poisonous, “the guy probably thinks it is a date. All men think dinner is a date!”

You roll your eyes and laugh, “says the woman who doesn’t date men.”

Nora walks up behind you as her eyes slide over your dress, “mark my word Y/N, Ransom will think it's a date and that will give him all the more reason he needs to be his usual sleazy self. It's his M.O.” Nora pauses as she zips the back of your dress, “have you and Ben even had sex yet?” She looks at you expectantly.

You shake your head, “we have _not_.”

“Are you sure Ben is okay with this?” Nora inquires as she crosses her arms and watches you slide on black flats.

“Yes, he’s fine with it,” you sigh as you search for your wristlet, “Ben and I have only been on two dates Nora. Two dates does not constitute him being my boyfriend.”

Nora exhales, “Ben’s a good guy. Don’t let Ransom get any ideas! If he sees an opening, he’ll take it! Then you’ll be at his mercy because he will throw the fact you two slept together in your face and use it to blackmail you into paying for protection or some shit.”

You and Nora had been best friends for ten years. You told her nearly everything. You had told her about Harlan Thrombey and his decision not to take any money but books and your friendship as payment for making the bookshop survive. You had told Nora about Ransom’s visit and he offered a business dinner to discuss a set of new terms since Harlan was deceased. She had advised against it, but you had informed her you already told Ransom yes and there was no backing out of it.

You find your wristlet then grab your phone. You see a missed text from Ben stating ‘be safe. Please call me when you get back home.’ You’re thankful he was understanding when you mentioned the whole business dinner with Ransom the previous night.

_“Business dinner?” Ben had echoed with annoyance._

_“Yes,” you had hissed in return, “damn prick thinks he can just own everything, and everyone.”_

_Ben had grabbed your hand over the console. He was driving you home from the date night you two had down in Boston. He kissed it gently, “he’s part of the mafia Y/N. Those people know they own everything and everyone.”_

It was well known throughout the state of Massachusetts, the Thrombey family was in the mafia. Everyone knew to steer clear of them but there were thousands of people who knew they could help with certain aspects of their personal lives and businesses. All the help, though, always came with a price. And there were those who were willing to pay no matter how steep the cost might be.

_“If he tries anything,” Ben had whispered later on outside your apartment door, “anything, promise me you’ll be the strong-willed, confident, brazen woman I’ve gotten to know.”_

_You had wrapped your arms around Ben’s neck, “I promise.”_

_Ben had captured your mouth, kissing you deeply and feverishly. Both of you pulled away from one another minutes later breathlessly._

_“Goodnight Y/N,” Ben had whispered against your lips._

_“Goodnight Ben,” you had murmured in return._

You now feel a pillow hit the back of your head. You turn and face Nora, “what?” You shriek out.

Nora giggles, “thinking about Ransom, or Ben?”

You roll your eyes and walk towards the door, “Ben.”

Nora hums a “mhm.”

“Truth,” you retort as you grab your coat and put it on.

“And I guarantee when you return and we talk in the morning, all you’ll be talking about is Ransom,” Nora thinks for a moment, “dating two men. Never pictured you as the type. You hussy!” She starts laughing at your reddening complexion.

You’re too flustered to be mad at Nora so you laugh. She’s egging you on when she clearly knows the dinner tonight with Ransom is just business, nothing more.

“Not going to answer me?” Nora inquires as she wiggles her eyebrows.

“I’m leaving,” you state as you place your hand on the doorknob.

“You have protection?” Nora taunts.

“Nora!” You screech loudly but it turns into a laugh as Nora begins to double over from laughter. You roll your eyes and tease jokingly in return, “what if I do?” You close the door shut and make your way towards your car.

Nora stops and stands still. She’s looking at a closed door as her mind begins to realize you had a tease in your voice. Nora continues laughing as she returns to the couch and finds a show to binge watch until her bed begins to call.

\-------

Ransom parks his Beamer out in front of the bookshop. There aren’t many cars parked along the main drag of Boston Post Road for a Friday night. Small town people like to enjoy the weekends down in Boston. It gives them the opportunity to enjoy city life since downton Boston is a twenty-minute drive from where Ransom stands.

Ransom gets out of his car and walks to the front door of the bookshop and knocks. Seconds later he sees you walking towards him.

You open the door and step out into the chilly night air. You close the door behind you, turn to face it and lock it up for the evening once again.

“Please don’t tell me you walked here?” Ransom inquires.

“I did not walk here,” you turn to face him, “I parked around back and waited inside where it was warm.”

“Right,” Ransom utters as he begins walking to his car. He sees you walking around to the passenger side. He jogs over and opens the door for you. _Treat a woman properly Ransom_ , Harlan’s voice echoes in his mind, _treat a woman as she should be treated. That’s how you earn their respect._

You glance at him before stepping into the vehicle, “thank you.”

Ransom smiles, “you’re welcome,” he closes the door softly then walks to the other side of the car and gets in. He starts the car and begins the drive towards Boston. Ransom taps his fingers against the steering wheel, he then glances over at you, notices your eyes are averted and looking out the passenger window. He needs something to fill the silence, needs something to drown out the rapid beating of his heart.

He hadn’t been this nervous for anything in life since he had lost his virginity at sixteen. No other date, no other person had made his heart race for hours on end. He wanted to make sure this night was perfect; make sure the restaurant he took you to was upscale and somewhat romantic. He wanted you to see he wasn’t a complete asshole, like he knew you figured him to be.

Ransom reaches over to the radio and turns it on. He moves the dial to find some decent music. Something to drown out the silence. At the first sound of music, Ransom stops.

Etta James’ earthy voice begins to fill the enclosed space of Ransom’s Beamer, “at last my love has come along, my lonely days are over, and life is like a song.”

Ransom smiles as he focuses on the road. The song’s lyrics paint a picture of someone finding the love of their life thus ending their lonely days, ending their heartache and sadness. Ransom steals another glance in your direction. Your eyes still staring out the passenger window yet when his eyes travel down your body, he notices your fingers silently tapping to the music. He begins to wonder how your fingers would feel against his bare skin. He wants to know if your soft touch, not the jolting touch of your slap, would send electricity through his body. He hadn’t seen what was under your knee length black wool coat. All Ransom saw was bare legs and your feet inside of black flats. He couldn’t wait to get you to the restaurant to see what is under the coat.

Several songs later, Ransom pulls up outside of the restaurant he made reservations at. He had pulled some strings with the owner (who happened to be on the Thrombey payoffs and bribes list) to curate a reservation in one of the private dining rooms. Ransom wanted you to himself, and he wanted no other distractions because he wanted your undivided attention.

“We’re here,” Ransom informs you as he turns the car off.

You look over at him then back at the front of the restaurant he parked in front of. You had never been to Mamma Maria, though you had always heard rave reviews about the Italian restaurant.

Ransom sees you reaching for the door handle, “I’ll get your door.”

You don’t have time to utter a response because Ransom has scrambled out of the car and appeared at your door within seconds. He opens it widely and holds out his hand.

You swallow as your heart begins to beat loudly, the sound drowning out everything else. _Don’t be rude_ , your mind remarks before you place your hand in his and step out of the car. You smile weakly at him, “thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Ransom whispers in return as he takes your hand and places it in the crook of his arm. He walks the both of you up the small set of stairs and through the main door of Mamma Maria, which is in the North End of Boston, located inside of a 19th century row house.

The maître d **'** is standing next to the hostess station and smiles brightly, “good evening mister Drysdale and miss Y/L/N. We have you two upstairs in our La Terrazza private dining room.”

“Thank you,” Ransom responds.

The maître d **'** holds out his hands, “may I take your coats?”

“Of course,” Ransom answers as he helps you with your coat first. He must catch his breath as his eyes roam over the curve hugging, black lace knee length dress you are wearing. He notices the sleeves don’t go all the way to your wrists, they stop in the middle of your forearm. Ransom also notices the scalloped high neck of the dress, he knows you see this dinner as business, but he sees it as something else – a date, though he’d never tell you.

“Thanks,” you utter at Ransom. He was being more gentlemanly than he was yesterday. It seemed he had done a 360 degree turn around involving his mannerisms and attitude. It appears this – the dinner, you – mattered to him.

You watch as Ransom takes off his own coat, revealing he’s dressed in a three-piece charcoal suit with a burgundy color tie, even the handkerchief in the left breast pocket is the same color. The shirt he has on underneath the suit is crisp and white. Your body becomes flooded with heat. You never been on a date, _no, not a date_ , you remind yourself, it’s a business dinner. You’ve never been with a man who has dressed up for a formal affair when dinner has been involved.

Your body is becoming feverish as your eyes travel up Ransom and land on his face. The charcoal color of his suit makes his blue piercing eyes pop. You begin to wonder what it would feel like to stand thisclose to him, inhale his cologne and slowly take off his suit.

_Fuuuuuck_ , your mind screams as your body betrays you. You don’t recall the last time a man has gotten you wound up like this. Ben was handsome and kind, he had a dazzling smile and a genuine heart. He was probably a delicate lover, took his time, making sure he hit every spot before screwing you. But Ransom? Ransom was the bad boy with the killer looks who probably knew how to tease and pleasure you in every way you wanted. He would take his time, but then he’d want you succumbing to your own pleasure before he succumbed to his own.

“Follow me please,” the maître d **'** announces as he begins climbing the staircase up to the second floor.

You begin ascending the steps behind the older gentleman, you feel Ransom right on your heels as you walk onto the landing of the second floor. You follow him down a short hallway and into a private dining area void of people but full of set tables and chairs.

The next area you walk into is a dimly lit glass enclosed balcony with sets of French doors lining one fourth of the walls. A lone table sits in the middle of the room, formally set for two people. Candles and fresh flowers are centrally placed on the white tablecloth. A silver wine bucket sits by the table with a bottle already in it, ready to be popped open.

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting you need some alcohol in your system to calm your nerves and hopefully get a glass of ice water to chill your body.

“Thank you,” you utter as the older gentleman pulls out a chair for you.

He smiles in return, waits till you're seated then takes the cloth napkin from the table, shakes it out with a whipping sound then places it lightly on your lap. He does the same for Ransom then moves to the doorway, “your server for the evening will be right in. Please enjoy your evening at Mamma Maria.”

Your eyes roam around the room taking in the strings of light roped around the iron railing of the balcony outside as well as the intertwined string of lights and green vines inside. The view of the square outside in front of the restaurant has some people in it, all walking in various directions so they can get where they need to go. Your eyes gloss over the rich detail of a forest/jungle setting painting with multiple types of greenery, birds, and Greek columns, which adorns the entire mass of one wall.

“This place is astonishingly beautiful,” you whisper.

Ransom has kept his eyes on you, “it’s not the only thing,” he murmurs under his breath.

You hear his featherlight words as you move your eyes to him and begin to talk but you’re cut off by the server.

“Good evening,” his cheery voice states as he hands you and Ransom menus, “shall I go ahead and open the bottle of wine sir?”

“Yes,” Ransom responds. He then adds, “could you also get us two glasses of ice water?”

The loud pop of uncorking the bottle fills the room and the server begins to pour, “certainly sir.” After the wine glasses are half filled, the server disappears.

Your eyes skim over the restaurant’s offerings. You absentmindedly gnaw at your bottom lip, a habit you have when trying to decide on what you want.

“Never been here?” Ransom observes you.

You shake your head, “I have not but I’m guessing you have.”

Ransom shrugs, “the family comes here on special occasions. I’ve never brought anyone else here.” _Why did I just admit that,_ Ransom thinks as he reaches for his glass of wine and takes a sip.

“Are they on your payroll?” You inquire with a raised brow.

Ransom chuckles as he sets the glass down, “not the restaurant itself, but the owner.”

“You blackmail him into making this possible?”

Ransom sighs, “I did not Y/N. I simply called and inquired if I could use one of the private dining rooms. He asked which one, how many people. I said only two. He wanted to give me one of the _smaller_ dining rooms since it was only two people. I told him I’d pay him what he’d lose for _one night_ if he let me have _this_ ,” Ransom motions a finger in a circle, “particular dining area.”

“You don’t need to impress me Ransom. Your family is one of the wealthiest in the state,” you claim, “a smaller dining area would have sufficed.”

_No, it wouldn’t have_ , Ransom responds in his mind. “I’ll make note of it.”

The young server returns with two glasses of ice water. He sets them down gently on the table and gives his wide toothy smile, “ready to order?”

“Yes,” you and Ransom say at the same time. You blush and smile, look down at your menu.

“Ladies first,” Ransom suggests.

You look at the menu then the server, “the Pasta con Sugo. Please.”

The server nods curtly, “certainly,” he looks at Ransom, “and you sir?”

“The Bistecca alla Fiorentina, bone-out,” Ransom responds. He adds, “please,” as an afterthought.

The server nods once again then takes the menus, “I’ll get those right in. If you two need anything don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll bring you some warm bread and the house salad in a few.”

You reach for the ice water, nearly gulp it down. Your body has been set ablaze since Ransom revealed the charcoal suit he was wearing to your eyes. Your mind filled with thoughts about his hands traveling over your naked flesh, feeling his lips against yours and giving you pleasure against your most private area and bundle of sensitive nerves.

Was it because you desperately had wanted Ben to lay claim to you last night? But you hadn’t let him because you wanted to see how it felt to be wined and dined by Ransom Drysdale? You felt if you and Ben finally had sex, after two dates no less, Ransom would be a hard pass but there was a part of you, an inkling inside of you who was curious about Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

_“Ransom has begun dating,” Harlan had divulged to you a couple of years ago, “ready to settle down.”_

_You had raised your eyebrows and gave a quizzical look, “I thought you said he was never going to marry. His parent’s marriage had poisoned him enough not to go down that road.”_

_Harlan had shrugged, “I think he knows my days are getting numbered. He doesn’t want to rule alone. He needs a woman to be by his side,” Harlan had scoffed, “he needs a woman, otherwise Linda will control every move and Lord knows, she’ll drive what I’ve built into the ground. And the other families won’t listen to her,” Harlan had chuckled, “they don’t like her. She’s a snake, a poisonous one. I’ve told her no women can rule the kingdom, but they can. I told her that just to spite her.” Harlan had chuckled again then pondered for a few minutes, “Ransom needs a strong-willed, won’t take any crap from no one woman to be by his side. He might need someone like **you**.”_

_You had snorted and rolled your eyes, “he’s a playboy Harlan. Who says he’d be faithful to the wife he marries?”_

_Harlan had looked at you with a gleam in his eyes, “you should get to know him Y/N. He puts on this façade because he’s had a rough life. His skin is tough because of the hatred spewed upon him by his mother, and father. He loathes himself because he thinks he’ll be a broken, tattered mess for the rest of his life,” Harlan had paused, “I think if he finds the right woman who stands up to him, who won’t take any of his crap – he’ll meet his perfect match. You stood up to me years ago Y/N, you just have to do the same with him.”_

_“Then why not invite me to your family dinners?” You had inquired._

_Harlan had huffed, “and drive you away from the madness that is the Thrombey family? And lose what we have?” Harlan had shaken his head, “no my dear, you don’t deserve to meet those mongrels. But heed this if you do ever meet Ransom after I’m gone, give him a chance,” Harlan had looked at you with pleading eyes, “please. For me.”_

“Y/N?” Ransom wonders. His voice breaking through the memories of Harlan.

You hum as you look at him with raised eyebrows. That conversation had been tucked away into a vault; you had almost forgotten all about it. _Was Harlan setting things in motion for you and Ransom to meet? He did give you the record logbook, kept your bookshop off any paperwork thus when Ransom finally took over, it would give Ransom a reason to visit_ your _bookshop._

“You seemed lost in thought.”

You shrug, “just reminiscing about a conversation I had with someone.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you pause and see the questioning look he gives you, “it doesn’t matter Ransom,” you take a drink of the wine, “besides isn’t this dinner about business?”

“It could be, but it also is about getting to know one another,” Ransom motions with a hand towards you, “tell me why a bookshop? I remember you saying your grandmother gave you your first book.”

“She did, yes,” you respond.

“I need more detail, please,” Ransom coaxes with sad puppy eyes.

You sigh as you place the wine glass down, “my mother died when I was seven. My father couldn’t handle raising me on his own, not quite yet, so he took me to his mom’s and vowed to keep me until he had the strength to raise me on his own. I was saddened by the loss of my mother, and then my father, just,” you pause, trying to keep your emotions in, “disappears. My grandmother decided to hand me a book she read to my father when the world felt sad. I devoured it in a day. I begged her for more books thus beginning my relationship with books and the written word.”

Ransom frowns, “sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, reaching for the wine glass again.

“What about your father? Did he come back?” Ransom inquires as he studies your soften features. He notices the way your eyes are glassy with tears and your mind lost in memories of your parents.

“He did,” you look over at Ransom. He’s intrigued by the story, your history, so you continue, “a year later. We moved from a small town in Iowa to the big city of Las Vegas. It’s where he got a job, where he found love again. I moved out there, eventually met my soon to be step-mother and my step siblings.”

“Your father still alive?”

“He is,” you pause and grin, “not sure if you want to know what he does.”

Ransom raises a brow, “maybe another time? How did you get out here? East Coast. Boston.”

“College. I met my best friend junior year of college, and she convinced me to stay out here. I’ve been out here twelve or so years. I enjoy it out here,” you smile to yourself, “I love a New England fall, it’s magical.”

The server carries in two plates of food, placing one in front of you and the other in front of Ransom. “Buon appetito.”

“Grazie,” Ransom remarks before the server turns to leave.

You look at Ransom, “please don’t tell me you speak Italian.”

Ransom grins, “I know some. Harlan taught me the basics growing up. He made me repeat necessary phrases, especially when it came to us visiting Italy for business.”

Over your friendship with Harlan, you had come to acknowledge he went to the country for various business meetings. You began to learn if he was standoffish from a recent trip, it meant it didn’t go well but if he was all smiles, everything went according to plan.

Dinner is a quiet affair as you and Ransom eat your food. You devour your food slowly, savoring each bite because it’s the most delicious meal you’ve had your entire life. No one wonder everyone expressed their joy when talking about this restaurant.

The server quickly dispenses with both plates after they’re cleared. You drink the rest of your wine down; glad the alcohol kept your nerves at bay.

“I know it’s late,” Ransom remarks, “I want to get you home safely. We should go.”

“Of course,” you smile in return.

After getting your coats and placing them on, Ransom opens the front door of the restaurant causing both of you to be greeted by the chilly night air of downtown Boston. His silver Beamer is sitting by the curb, the engine already going as Ransom’s phone begins to vibrate excessively. He ushers you towards the car and opens the door for you.

Once you climb into the warmth of the small car, Ransom rummages for his phone.

He answers it annoyingly, “right now?” Ransom huffs. “Okay, fine,” he turns to look at you sitting inside the car, “fine! I’ll be right there.”

Ransom climbs into the driver seat and looks at you apologetically, “I have to make a stop at Elysium. It’s a club I’m a business partner in. I have to go. It’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine Ransom,” you declare, “I do know you are a businessman. It’s fine.”

Ransom nods his head and begins the drive over to the club.

The silver Beamer slides into the valet area of a two-story building. One young valet attendant opens your door and gives you a smile and his hand, “ma’am.”

You give a weak smile and your hand, “thanks.”

Ransom comes to your side, places his hand on your lower back then turns his head towards the young man, “keep it running. Make sure no one steals it.”

“Will do mister Drysdale,” the young man responds.

Ransom escorts you inside Elysium. The music could make oneself deaf. You didn’t want to be here, but you knew Ransom had to take care of business. You didn’t mind. Or did you?

His hand was still on your lower back as he moved you towards the bar. He leans over it and whispers to the barkeep who glances in your direction and nods. Ransom returns to you, he leans down and whispers, “stay here. Have whatever you want to drink. On me,” he pulls back and looks at you, “I’ll be right back. Okay?”

You smile and nod. Afraid to speak because the closeness of him was too much for you to handle and you were able to inhale the cologne he was wearing. You keep your eyes on him as he retreats from the bar and climbs up a set of stairs to the second floor.

*

Half an hour later, Ransom descends the steps from the VIP section of the club. He could wring Julian’s neck, everything was fine. Julian was in a panic because he had misplaced some funds and thought someone was stealing from the club. Thankfully, no one was stealing from Elysium and the missing money was found tucked away behind some bookkeeping materials. Which Ransom found odd, but Julian said he had been doing some bookkeeping during the day so therefore placing the missing money with the records for the club.

Ransom’s eyes roam through the crowd. He breathes a sigh of relief as he sees you standing at the bar. But you aren’t alone. There’s a gentleman talking to you, touching your arm in a flirty gesture. Jealousy consumes Ransom as he begins to make his way over towards you, but he stops himself.

_Don’t let her see the beast_ , his mind thinks, _keep it together. As much as you can. Keep it together. Don’t scare her._

Ransom then sees you struggling to get away from the man. The other man now has his hand wrapped around your upper arm, trying to drag you away to God knows where. _She’s mine_ , his mind shouts as his feet move him quickly to where you are.

_Stay calm_ , Ransom thinks as he approaches the man and you.

“Hands. Off. Her.” Ransom seethes as he stands inches away.

The muscular man sneers at Ransom, “back off Wall Street,” then proceeds to pull you up against him, your back against the muscular man’s front. “She’s mine.”

Ransom takes two more steps, keeping himself calm when all he wants to do is beat the shit out of this man for laying his hands on you. _She’s mine_ , his mind is running rampant with this thought, with this only thought, _she’s mine_.

You’re struggling to fight free, but you keep your eyes on Ransom. You see the anger in his eyes, you see he’s ready to attack, ready to release whatever beast he has inside of him free. You see him clench his jaw.

“I said,” Ransom growls, “hands off her.”

You see other men coming to stand behind Ransom, giving him a wide berth if something were to happen.

Ransom looks at his men then back at you. He doesn’t want to scare you, or make you uncomfortable. All he wants to do is get this man’s hands off you and you into his arms so he can reassure you you are okay, and no harm would ever fall to you under his protection, as well as under his watchful eye. He’d protect you till his last breath. Ransom’s thinking of your needs before his, which is a first because he’s never thought of a woman before himself. Ransom has always put his needs first, no one else’s. Ransom fears this knowledge but it’s also quite pleasant. No one has ever made him feel this way before. No one.

“Please let her go,” Ransom scowls, “if you don’t, I will have to resort to something else.”

The muscular man looks between Ransom and the men clad in black behind him. You take this opportunity to stomp hard on his foot then kick your right leg back, the heel of your foot zeroing in on the man’s nuts. The muscular man hisses then tosses you forward out his grasp as he moves his hands to his groin area. By having the man toss you forward, you fall into Ransom. He envelops you immediately with his strong arms and pulls you up against him.

“You’re okay Y/N,” Ransom whispers, “you’re okay.”

All you can do is swallow and nod your head. You squeeze your eyes shut and open them; thankful Ransom walked up when he did. “I want to go home.”

“Right away,” Ransom states as he keeps you tucked into his body. He notices his men escorting the muscular man out. He stops one of his men, leans over and whispers, “save him for me. Understood?”

The man in black nods, “understood boss.” 

\-------

Ransom parks his Beamer next to your car which is sitting alone in the parking lot behind the bookshop. “I want to apologize for the detour, I should’ve driven you straight here instead,” Ransom looks at you, “and my apologies about the subsequent issues at the club. I should’ve kept a more diligent eye on you.”

You reach over and cup his cheek. It’s smooth but you can feel the fine hairs of a five o’clock shadow beginning to form, “Ransom _you_ got me home _safe_. That’s what matters. You have a business to run, so do I. I know what it’s like to be pulled in all different directions.” 

“But if we hadn’t gone—” Ransom begins but is silenced by you placing your soft lips on his other cheek.

“Don’t beat yourself up Ransom,” you whisper as you pull away. You lower your hand and reach for the door, “come by the bookshop whenever you want, even if it’s just to chat. Okay?”

Ransom nods as he thinks, _there is hope_. He has a frog in his voice as he says, “okay.”

“Goodnight Ransom.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” Ransom watches you walk around his Beamer then get into your car. He waits till you pull away from the building before he reaches for his phone.

“Where’d you take him?” Ransom questions when someone picks up.

“Usual spot boss,” the gruff voice on the other end replies.

“I’ll be there soon,” Ransom declares as he peels off and begins the drive back to Boston.

*

Ransom walks into the abandoned warehouse his family uses to deal with matters. Mainly it’s to deal with killing people who don’t conform to their rules or pay them back in a timely manner. The place is also used to beat up pieces of shit who don’t listen to his words of warnings.

Ransom hands his wool coat to someone, he then places his suit jacket on top of his coat. He rolls up his shirt sleeves as he makes his way towards the man who put his hands on what belonged to him.

In his entire life, Ransom could count on one hand how many times he's been outwardly violent towards other people. Calling them ‘people’ was being generous though. He had to deal with a few traitors in the family before, but it was usually with a single shot to the head and he was done. Quick and clean, it's how he preferred it.

Doing business with his bare hands, however? Well that was too messy. But for _her_? Well, exceptions can be made. Hell, Ransom would change everything about his life for her if she asked.

This man, no, this piece of filth, touched her. Had his filthy hands on what is his, even though Ransom knew she was not his. They weren’t even dating; they were business partners. But he felt as though she will be his, come heaven or high water. _She_ will be his.

The filth is on his knees before Ransom and his men. His wrists are chained, keeping him grounded to the floor. Ransom signals to one of his men to remove the bag. Once it is done, the muscular man looks up at Ransom and sneers, “well, if it ain't Wall Street? What’s a pretty boy like you going to do?”

Ransom shakes his head at the man's comments. Let him spew out his nonsense. As he walks over to the nearby table which holds a myriad of tools and weapons, Ransom unbuttons the charcoal vest. He considers his choice and settles on the brass knuckles. He slips them onto his right hand. He gives his fingers a wiggle, getting them used to the foreign feeling of the brass knuckles separating his fingers.

He turns his attention back to the man on his knees. The man scoffs indignantly when he sees Ransom flexing his fingers in the brass knuckles, “you going to hit me, Wall Street? Just because I tried to show your woman what a real man is like?” 

Ransom balls his hand into a lethal fist and punches the man, “you touched what wasn’t yours.”

The muscular man is jolted back but held in place by the restraints on his wrists. He falls forward for a moment, blood and spit oozing from his mouth. He sits back up and faces Ransom. He grins, “is that all you got?”

Ransom crouches down in front of the man. He takes note of the broken skin and blood pouring from the wound that's opened up around his nose. “You really have no idea who I am do you?” Ransom chuckles.

The muscular man spits out blood at Ransom’s feet and cackles, “and who are you? Besides some trust-fund looking prick.”

Ransom flashes a toothy smile. He leans into the man’s space, getting close when he whispers, “I’m Ransom Drysdale, and I am the new head of the Thrombey crime family.” He watches as the man's cocky façade morphs into genuine fear. 

“I, I,” the once proud man stutters, “didn’t know,” he quickly apologizes. “I am sorry. Please sir, if I would have known--” Ransom punches him again, and again. Blood is flying and splattering all over his charcoal vest and once crisp white shirt. It now resembles a Jackson Pollock painting made of blood. 

“Now you see, I am not inclined to forgive you, my friend. Let me tell you why,” Ransom steps back to look over his masterpiece and once again crouches in front of the man, garnering his attention. “That woman, you had your hands all over. She’s _mine._ ” Saying the words out loud like that sends a thrill up his spine, “and _no one_ touches her except for _me_. Is that understood?”

The man’s furious nods bring a smile to Ransom’s face. “Good,” he says just as his fist delivers a final blow directly to the man's jaw which effectively knocks the man to the floor completely.

One of Ransom’s men brings him a towel and waits with his hand open, waiting for his boss to drop the now bloodied brass knuckles in his palm. “Damn, boss,” is his only response. 

Wiping away the blood from his hands and face the best he can, Ransom tosses the used towel on the table full of weapons. “Take care of the mess. I don’t want to see him again,” he orders his men. Ransom’s breathless as he looks down at his blood-spattered clothes once more. His hand is on fire from the pain of punching the man before him. Even with the brass knuckles taking most of the damage, his knuckles did not escape completely unscathed.

The entire experience was liberating if he had to admit it out loud. The adrenaline coursing through his veins is making him feel reborn. This is the effect she had on him. This is what he was willing to do to defend her honor and quite frankly he wouldn't have it any other way.

“I’m going home,” he announces to the room before grabbing his jacket and leaving the abandoned warehouse. 

*

Ransom returns home close to midnight. He’s still worked up from beating the shit out of a man who fucking deserved it. He’s too amped up to go straight to bed.

Ransom discards his blood-spattered clothes once inside his bedroom. He makes way for the en suite bathroom and turns on the shower. He tests the water’s temperature before getting under the hot spray.

He begins washing off the blood from his face, moves his hands down over his chest and stomach. His mind moves to thoughts of her. Her body in that dress, hugging every curve he wants to roam his hands over, hugging every curve he wants to place his lips against.

Ransom finds his semi-hard cock and begins stroking it slowly as he thinks about what he wants to do to her.

Deep moans begin to fill the bathroom as he pictures her under him naked. He pictures himself kissing the pulse point of her neck, sucking lightly at the skin leaving a mark.

Ransom strokes his hard cock faster as he thinks about leaving marks all over her skin, claiming her as his. He wants her to walk around with those marks on her body full well knowing she is his, and only his.

Ransom feels the knot deep within him begin to unravel, his orgasm building quickly for release.

He wants to bury his head between her thighs and taste her. He wants his tongue to dance over her sensitive nub while she moans in pleasure and climaxes against his tongue before he buries his hard cock inside of her slick walls, fucking her endlessly as she claws at his skin. He pictures her writhing under him as she moans his name repeatedly.

Ransom growls as his orgasm crests. He cannot wait to hear her moan and whisper his name as he gives her pleasure from all he has to offer – his mouth, his hands, his cock. He wants to be the only man she craves for the rest of her life. Because Ransom knows, she is the only woman he has ever craved with carnal desire.

Ransom strokes his cock up and down as his orgasm erupts inside of him. His loud grunts fill the bathroom as he rides out the pleasure from his own hand. He pants heavily as he leans against the shower wall, trying to regain his normal breathing pattern.

Ransom cleans himself before turning off the water and placing a towel around his hips. He dries himself off with another towel before shuffling his way into the bedroom where he climbs into bed naked.

His mind thinks of her, and only her, as he succumbs to the slumber his body desperately needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> campo di battaglia - battlefield
> 
> buon appetito - enjoy your meal
> 
> grazie - thank you
> 
> Definition:
> 
> blitzkrieg - an intense military campaign intended to bring about a swift victory


	4. l'elmento sorpresa

__  


_You feel arms wrap around you and pull you back._

_“I’m glad we finally got some quality time alone,” you whisper as you rest your head back, “our jobs have been keeping us apart too long.”_

_“Agreed,” replies Ransom’s voice._

_You turn inside of his strong arms and look at Ransom. He’s looking down at you with a devilish smile, his brown hair void of any hair product which causes a few strands to fall out of place, his blue eyes shimmer in the light of the fireplace. He doesn’t look like a complete asshole, he looks soft._

_Your eyes travel down his bare chest, following the plains and lines of musculature. You had imagined what he looked like under that suit the moment you laid eyes on him at the restaurant. The warmth radiating from his soft bare skin was intoxicating, making you delirious in the best possible way._

_Ransom is staring at you like he could be looking at the stars. “You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on,” he declares. His shimmering blue eyes are full of awe and wonder. His gaze is reverent, making it seem as though you are the only woman in the entire universe. An indescribable fluttering erupts in your stomach, it's something you have certainly never felt before. Could it be lust? Or is it longing? It certainly couldn't be love, or is it? All you are aware of is that you crave him more than anything else in the world._

_You reach up and pull his mouth down to yours. Within seconds you're kissing each other with invigorating passion. You never want to pull away, his mouth is intoxicating._

_You feel his hands traveling over your body, you need to feel those hands against your flesh. “Touch me,” you pant after you pull away, “please Ransom.”_

_Ransom dips his head into the crook of your neck. He suckles your skin softly as one of his hands travels down your body. He palms your core and smiles against your neck as he hears your sharp intake of breath._

_“Ransom!” Your voice is a soft cry as heat floods your body. Your hands blindly roam across his skin seeking purchase against anything you could grip onto. He’s making you absolutely wanton with desire._

_Ransom removes his head from the crook of your neck to look down at you. He smiles as he brings his hand back up and traces a finger along your jawline. “Tell me where mia regina.”_

_“Everywhere,” you plead as you look into his ocean blue eyes, “touch me everywhere.”_

_Ransom moves his hand down over your clothing. He finds the hem of your shirt, lifts it and places his hand on your flesh. “Is this what you want?”_

_His touch sets your body on fire, “yes.”_

_Ransom moves his hand slowly over your flesh, his finger grazing your skin which causes goosebumps to cover your flesh. He looks down at you – your eyes closed, soft moans escaping from your mouth. He moves his hand up further then cups one of your breasts. His thumb flicks your nipple through the material. He grins as he hears your sharp intake of breath and sees you arch your back._

_You keep your eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of his hand against your naked skin. “Ransom,” you whisper as you reach up and run your fingers through his soft brown hair._

_“Yes, mia regina?”_

_“Kiss me,” you plead._

_Ransom dips his head and murmurs, “anything for you,” before capturing your mouth once again._

You awake with a gasp. Your heart is racing as heat and adrenaline course through your veins. Sweat is beading at your forehead and dripping down your chest. “Damn it,” you sigh with a voice thick with sexual frustration. 

*

You can _not_ focus, and it’s an extremely unusual busy day at the bookshop. You do have two of the four college students you hired helping you, but with the hustle and bustle of children and their parents coming in and out of the place to find books designated for Spring Reading lists, it all seems too overwhelming. Especially when all you can think of is Ransom’s mouth and hands on you. Your dream was vivid, making you remember every detail.

His soft plush mouth against yours. His hands touching your bare flesh, roaming over your stomach. Those hands cupping your breasts over your bra, his thumbs flicking your nipples. The way pieces of his hair fell out of place, how soft those strands were when you ran your fingers through it. His ocean blue eyes are a sea you want to swim in forever.

Even thinking about it now, sends heat to your core and pleasure through your body.

_Is it hot in here_ , you absentmindedly think as you carry a stack of books to the checkout counter.

“It’s fine boss,” replies one of your employees.

You grimace, realizing you asked the question out loud. Whoops.

*

When you get home, your body still on fire from the night’s previous dream, you decide to take a cold shower. The coldness will cool you off and you can stop thinking about Ransom who consumed your mind all day and fueled the wanton lust for sex. You had racked your brain for an hour trying to remember the last time you had sex.

_Months_ , you had finally recalled. It has been months since another man has given you pleasure. Your body was finally craving it once again, and it was only ravenous for one man.

You step under the cold stream of water, washing the stench off from the day and hopefully washing all thoughts of Ransom Drysdale into the drain.

You grab your nightshirt, put it on then crawl into bed. You’re too tired to check your phone, or continue reading the book you had been trying to finish for weeks now. You also knew Nora was doing one of her two monthly Saturday graveyard shifts at the hospital so she couldn’t interrupt the precious sleep you were about to have. You situated yourself and closed your eyes, hoping for pleasant dreams.

_You giggle as Ben pulls you into the first-floor office inside Thrombey Manor, “Ben we shouldn’t be doing this.”_

_Ben pulls you into his arms, brushes his lips against yours, “I beg to differ,” he grins as he steps back, closes the door shut and locks it, “now there will be no interruptions.”_

_You reach out and pull Ben by his tie, pulling him up against you. You capture his mouth with yours as your fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt then with his belt. You walk back towards the desk, stop when you feel the cool wood against your legs._

_Ben moves his hands down your back and over your ass. He lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the desk. “I wanna taste you. Been wanting to taste you since I first laid my eyes on you.”_

_You moan lowly as you feel one of his hands travel in between your thighs and palm your core. “Ben, please,” you plead as you tilt your head back and close your eyes while his fingers stroke your folds._

_“So wet for me mia regina,” Ransom’s rough voice declares._

_You open your eyes and instead of Ben, there’s Ransom standing between your legs. He’s wearing his charcoal three-piece suit with burgundy tie. You bite your lip as your eyes look down and see his hand between your thighs._

_“Who do you want mia regina?” He inquires sternly._

_“You,” you moan out as you lean forward and press your mouth against his, “I want you Ransom.”_

_You feel Ransom’s thumb circle your clit, which causes you to moan against his soft lips. You feel your orgasm rising rapidly inside of you._

_You pull away and look into his blue piercing eyes. You cup his cheeks, “I need you inside me.”_

_Ransom grins devilishly, “anything for you. You are mine.”_

_You smile at him in return as you slide your hands over the material of his suit. “This suit does things to me Ransom,” your fingers reach the waistband of his pants and you waste no time undoing them. You push his pants down, revealing his girthy and lengthy hard cock._

_Ransom withdraws his hand from between your legs then places his hands on your hips and pulls you towards him. He thrusts into you with one swift motion._

He feels amazing _, you think as his cock sinks into you._

_“And you do things to me in return Y/N,” Ransom captures your mouth as he leans over, pushing you back against the desk. Your hands move over the front of his suit then rest against his face because you can’t get enough of his mouth against yours as he pounds in and out of you._

_You feel one of Ransom’s hands move between your bodies. His hand dives to your core, his thumb finds your clit and begins to circle it slowly._

_“Ransom,” you plead when you pull your mouth away from his._

_“Come for me mia regina,” Ransom grunts, “come for me.”_

_Your orgasm edges near the crest. His cock and thumb driving you mad with pleasure, “Ransom, yes,” you breathlessly gasp, “yes!” Your voice high-pitched as your orgasm erupts inside you, causing your body to tremble. Your hands move to his shoulders and dig in as your body experiences the aftershocks of pleasure._

_You want those lips on you again as you watch him begin to pull away. You reach up and grab the tie and tug him back down to you as you claim his mouth with yours._

_Ransom gives into you, kissing you in return. Minutes later he pulls back and looks down at you, his hand comes up and strokes your cheek, “you are mine.”_

_“I,” you breathlessly look up at him, “I am yours Ransom.”_

You moan deeply as you wake with a start. Your hands traveling down your body as you feel the orgasm Ransom gave you in your dream stir the desire and lust within yourself here in reality. You can't stop yourself as your fingers stroke your folds and your thumb finds your bundle of sensitive nerves.

You moan as your two fingers circle the nub, bringing forth your orgasm. It’s cresting rapidly as your mind consumes itself with feeling Ransom's lips on yours, of feeling himself between your legs, and of feeling his cock deep inside of you.

“Come for me mia regina,” Ransom’s voice echoes in the darkness of your room, “come for me.”

You don’t know what “mia regina” means but it sounds heavenly. Your loud moans begin to fill your bedroom as your orgasm crests, reaching the peak of the tidal wave then crashes inside of you. You can't help yourself when “Ransom” escapes your mouth in a breathless whisper. “Ransom,” his name escapes again on a lustful gasp.

Minutes seem to tick by slowly as you let the pleasure from your own hand seep through every ounce of your body. You’ve never had a vivid sex dream before, never felt the effects of a sex dream so soon after it ends. You usually let the remnants of a sex dream drive you through the day then let it help ease you into slumber that night, or you head into Boston with Nora, trying to find relief with an actual man and not your hand.

You lie back against the bedding and stare up at the ceiling, as your breathing returns to normal and your body brings itself down from the high. Before you close your eyes and let sleep drag you back in, your final thought is knowing full well you are truly fucked when it comes to Ransom Drysdale.

\-------

At six o’clock sharp Sunday evening the doorbell chimes through Thrombey Manor. Ransom frowns as he hears Fran open the front door. His family shuffles into the foyer, takes off their coats and begins piling them into Fran’s arms. The only two who don’t are Meg and Donna who walk over to the coat closet and put their own coats away.

“Ransom!” They all nearly shout in unison.

“Family,” comes Ransom’s dry response.

The Thrombey family is dysfunctional as they come. They might be sitting high on a hill overlooking their kingdom, overlooking their subjects but there is still dysfunction within the stone walls where they think they can hide everything.

Walt, the youngest son of Harlan, runs with the wrong crowd, getting into trouble wherever he can. His wife Donna appears to be quiet and put together, yet she runs a Madam’s club, discreetly. Their son Jacob is all about being the rich snob and getting high as a kite with his plethora of friends.

Joni married into the family. She isn’t blood but her daughter Meg is a Thrombey by birth. Joni’s greedy like the subjects that come crawling, needing to be bailed out. Meg keeps to herself; she doesn’t involve herself much in family dynamics. She’d rather be at school away from the drama, away from the pain being a Thrombey causes.

Linda and Richard don’t speak much anymore but they keep themselves composed, as best they can, for family engagements. Linda runs her successful real estate company, built it from the ground up because her father wouldn’t give her a dime, even though she had pleaded to Harlan about needing more of it. Richard likes to keep things hidden, tries at least. He’s had three affairs in the last seven years and he’s ready to vamoose, but he knows there’s a prenup (at Harlan’s behest, no less) and if he leaves Linda he doesn’t get a cent. And Richard knows he needs moolah to keep his affairs – personal and business – in order.

Ransom frowns as he looks at them sitting around the dinner table. _Why was I born into this family?_ All they are is greedy and powerful (well they think they are because they throw the Thrombey name around like a dice, using it all the time to gain money and control). 

He thinks how _she’d_ react to meeting this group of dysfunctional idiots. _Would she stand up to them? Or would she cower before them? Would she defy his mother? Would she tell the one person he loathes the most in this world to back the fuck off because he is his own person?_

Ransom grins, he’d love to see that happen. He’d love to see his woman defy his mother. Watch as her beautiful eyes fill with hellfire, raging and determined. Seeing you get right in Linda’s face.

“He’s not your boy anymore,” he envisions Y/N shouting at her, “he’s a man who deserves your respect, you fucking little cunt of a bitch.”

Ransom shrugs, _okay, maybe not those words exactly, but hey, a man can dream_.

“How’s the kingdom?” Walt inquires.

Ransom glances at his uncle, “superb. How’s being out on bail for what, the sixth time this year?”

“Look here,” Walt huffs as he stands, he uses his cane for support, “look here you little shit. I can take away your power!”

Ransom scoffs, “your own father didn't want you in charge.”

“That doesn't mean anything Ransom!” Walt declares.

“Walt, please,” Donna utters as she tugs on his shirt to get him to sit back down, “stop with all this.”

“He doesn't deserve the throne Donna! Dad should've given it to me! His own kid, _not_ his grandson!” Walt spews out as he sits and looks at his wife.

“Dad wanted Ransom to run the family Walt! Don't have a bellyache! You know you’re too chickenshit to run an empire!” Linda remarks with gumption. “I mean you couldn't even keep your lemonade stand afloat when we were kids!”

Walt points a finger at his older sister, “oh shut up Linda. Everyone knows your husband can't keep his dick in his pants!”

Jacob pays no mind to his parents or the rest of the family. He’s thinking about the next high, thinking about what others are doing while he sits here and listens to the same old bullshit. He takes out his phone and AirPods to drown everything out.

Meg shakes her head, “this is _fucking_ ridiculous,” she stands, pushes her chair away from the table as she does, “I’m leaving!”

“Meg!” Joni whines.

Meg looks at Ransom, knowing to ask him for permission, “may I go?”

Ransom nods as he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, “fine with me.” _If only I could go too_.

Joni excuses herself to follow her daughter, while Walt and Linda get into a shouting match. Donna glares at the table and crosses her arms, if only she could leave as well. Richard sits in disbelief then shrugs and reaches for his alcoholic beverage.

Ransom looks at this mess of a family then answers his phone in a rage, “what?”

“Something happened boss,” comes a voice from the other end. Ransom excuses himself into the study and away from his family. This conversation doesn't concern them.

“What?” Ransom doesn't have any patience left. “Out with it!”

“The man from the other night, his body washed ashore in the Boston Harbor. Police are on the case.”

_Fuck_ , Ransom thinks as his mind rages with anger and frustration.

“How the hell could you let this happen?" He growls angrily into the phone, "you had one job." He waves his finger in the air. 

Ransom takes a breath, trying to calm himself down, he feels his blood pressure rising dangerously high, "anyway you can find out who’s on the case? See about their history, their present. See if they need any coercing.”

“Sure thing boss. We’ll get it taken care of.”

“Good. Don't call me until it’s been sorted,” Ransom remarks before hanging up. 

He wonders if the news has caught wind of it, they probably have. The news always catches wind of stories involving the mafia, involving the Thrombey family but if Ransom is able to get to the detectives on the case within hours, everything will be swept under the rug. And tomorrow will be a new day with different headlines.

\-------

At the same time Ransom was stepping away from the table to answer his own phone, yours began to vibrate on the nightstand next to your bed. Noticing it’s Ben, you pick it up.

“Hey! Are you on the way?”

Ben sighs heavily, “I caught a case. I won’t be able to see you tonight. Not sure how long this is going to take.”

“Oh,” you frown, “I’m sorry. I hope it isn’t too horrible.”

“A body was found washed upon shore near the harbor. Guy took a beating before a bullet to the head,” Ben pauses, “you be careful, okay? If there’s some murderer out there, take precautions. Please.”

“You be careful too,” you remark, “this could be something else.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ben responds, “hopefully this doesn’t take forever. Maybe we can plan for getting together Tuesday night?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

“Bye Y/N.”

“Night Ben,” you state before hanging up.

You proceed to walk out into the living room then to the kitchen.

“Ben still coming for your date?” Nora shouts from the living room.

“No,” you answer, “he caught a case.”

Nora laughs, “can’t believe you’re dating a detective, _and_ a mob boss.”

You sigh frustratingly, “Ransom and I are _not_ dating!”

“Says you,” Nora snorts.

You roll your eyes as you begin to pour yourself a glass of water as a breaking news bulletin begins to broadcast from the TV. You shuffle your feet towards the living room wondering how the news of a washed-up body could’ve made the headlines already.

“This afternoon, Boston detectives found a washed-up body on the shore of Boston Harbor. The body looked severely beaten and had a gunshot wound to the head. Detectives are unsure of a motive at this time,” the newscaster pauses, “but if anyone has seen this man—”

Glass shatters against the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Your heart rate increases rapidly as your eyes take in the picture of the man on the TV. The man who had flirted with you then tried to take you to wherever and do whatever he wanted. The man who was escorted out of the club by Ransom’s men.

“Y/N!” Nora exclaims as she makes her way over to you. She takes your trembling hands into her steady ones, “are you okay?”

You can’t breathe, can’t focus. All you can think is, _what has Ransom done?_

“Y/N!” Nora shrieks with a worrisome voice as she catches your arms and sinks to the floor with you. “Please talk to me!”

_Calm yourself_ , you think, _calm yourself._ But you can’t as your mind begs to know what Ransom did. You know he did something, otherwise you wouldn’t be looking at a picture of the man who tried to force you into something you didn’t want. But it’s Ransom, king of the Thrombey crime family. He sits upon the throne of power, he’s capable of anything now. 

“Y/N!” Nora shouts as she grasps your arms. “Talk to me!”

You swallow, trying to compose yourself. “I, just, I,” you stutter as you try to focus your mind. _Don’t mention Ransom_. You look at the TV screen then back at Nora, “Ben said, uh, I remember Ben telling me,” you stammer, “about the guy on TV,” you shrug, “dangerous guy. Criminal ties to plenty of mafia families.”

Nora nods her head, rubs your arms, “well, he’s dead. So, nothing to worry about,” Nora looks you over, “you sure you’re okay?”

You press your lips together and nod, “I’m fine Nora. Sorry for the dramatics.”

Nora smiles lopsidedly, “it’s okay. No worries.”

You help clean up the mess you made then head to your bedroom. You had protected Ransom, kept his name from her ears. You knew if you mentioned Ransom and the club, and the guy on TV trying to take you against your will, she’d have a field day. She would become the overbearing helicopter person you knew her to be when it came to protecting those she loved.

You loved her dearly for it too. You couldn't ask for a better best friend then Nora.

Yet protecting Ransom nags at you like a pest. Why protect Ransom in the first place? Why protect a man you barely knew? A man you knew who would only want one thing from you in the end - money. 

As you tuck yourself into bed, you think, maybe, just maybe you protected Ransom because he protected you and in return, you felt obligated to protect him as well.

\-------

On a surprisingly warm, sunlit Tuesday afternoon, the bell above the door rings as another customer walks in. Your eyes glide over to the door as you focus on getting change for the customer in front of you. It’s not a customer, it’s Ransom.

Trying to keep your anger in check, you smile widely as you count the change back to the customer then hand him his two books, “thank you for coming in! Have a nice day!”

The man smiles and nods in return. He walks to the front door, opens it and proceeds outside.

You make your way to the front door, knowing there are no other customers inside the bookshop, and lock the door. You flip the open sign around to say closed. You want no interruptions happening when you converse with Ransom about what occurred after dinner on Friday night.

“You don’t have to close the place on my account,” Ransom declares as he watches you walk towards him leaning against the counter. His fingers absentmindedly playing with an artsy craft - an open book with small butterflies flying out of it. 

“I want no interruptions when I scold you for killing a man!”

Ransom frowns as his eyes divert away from your face, “you heard?”

“Not only did I hear about it Ransom! I saw his picture displayed on the news! What did you do?”

Ransom returns his gaze to you, “I did what had to be done.”

You sigh heavily and cross your arms, “by killing him?”

Ransom stands to his full height, “he disrespected me. More importantly though he disrespected _you_ ,” he takes a couple steps, closing the distance between you two, “that piece of filth laid a hand on you without your explicit consent. Who knows what he would’ve done if I hadn’t walked up when I had.”

“And you decided he needed to be taught a lesson?”

Ransom clenches his fists, “you're goddamn right I did,” he pauses, “you’ve known my grandfather for years. You know the world, _my world_ , the Thrombeys live in. He placed his hands on you without consent. He had to be taught a lesson in respect! In treating a woman properly! And that man had _no_ respect Y/N! It’s why he was taught a lesson never to touch what isn’t his!”

“Then you killed him!”

Ransom remembers the pain his knuckles had endured but he also remembers the adrenaline pumping through his veins afterwards. “He was still breathing, hanging on by a thread when I left him.”

“Yet I’m sure you,” you point an accusatory finger at him, “ordered your men to get rid of him!”

Ransom’s anger is at its boiling point and shouts, “he touched what is mine!”

You stand frozen.

Ransom closes the distance between you two. He inhales your lavender and lily perfume. “He touched what is mine Y/N,” he pauses, “he touched you,” Ransom cups your cheek, strokes your skin, “as long as I am alive, no one will ever lay a hand on you. As long as I am breathing, you will be under my protection. No harm will ever befall you.”

“Ransom,” your voice cracks at his revelations. Your mind is swimming. You are drowning in his confession, in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He’s placed all his cards on the table, admitting his intentions.

“You are mine,” Ransom utters as he traces his thumb over your lips. He’s staking his claim on you.

Your sex dream with Ransom begins to play in your mind on a loop. His words from your dream ‘you are mine’ loudly plays every time it comes to that particular part. You’re unable to process a single thought but you manage to murmur, “I can't." You swallow, your throat is like sandpaper, "I’m seeing someone else.”

“Have dinner with me?”

You raise your eyebrows and your voice another octave, “did you not hear me?”

“I did. I don’t care,” Ransom huffs, “have dinner with me, at Thrombey Manor. Just me and you. Let me prove myself to you.”

“Ransom I know you--” you begin.

Ransom shakes his head, “you don’t know me Y/N. You heard about me from Harlan, pretty sure you’ve heard rumors about me but you don’t know me. Come to dinner, get to know me.”

“I’m seeing someone else,” you repeat.

He leans in close; his lips are next to your ear. The warmth of his breath causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, “I will show you, you won’t need him,” Ransom whispers. He pulls away but pauses as he places a light kiss on your cheek, “and all you’ll need, and want, is _me_.”

Do you give in? Oh boy, everything inside of you wants to give in. Your entire being wants to know what it’s like to be inside the four walls of Thrombey Manor with Ransom, and you’d be _alone_ with Ransom.

Your body’s clamoring for his touch all over your naked flesh. The sex dream you had two days ago igniting the wanton lust inside of you, once again, for the man standing in front of you. You want to, oh sweet baby Jesus, you want to. You’ve never wanted anything more in your entire life.

You step out of his reach, step away from the touch which was burning your flesh. You stand tall, confident; you look him in the eyes and utter, “no.”

Ransom’s consumed with rage at the word you utter to him. _Why does she reject me_ , he thinks as he lowers his eyes, _what can I do to make her mine?_ He quietly walks around you towards the front door. He changes the sign to open before unlocking the door and walking out into the warm afternoon.

Ransom eyes his Beamer as he places his sunglasses on. But instead of walking towards his prized possession, he turns to the right, heading towards Leiby’s. 

*

You release the breath you’ve been holding in since you told Ransom no to dinner. You were concerned he’d release the beast you saw ready to attack on Friday night, but he kept calm. Yet instead you saw a glimpse of sorrow and confusion in his eyes.

You felt Ransom was keeping himself in check, but only for your sake. You knew deep down in your gut he had a beast waiting to be released, like when he showed the man from the nightclub no one messes with Ransom Drysdale; no one touches what is his.

You wonder how often he gives in and lets his alter ego take control; you wonder if he’s going to unleash it tonight on someone. Would the person deserve it? Why did it suddenly matter to you? You then find yourself wondering if he’s going to find another woman to release himself into because of his frustrations.

At that particular thought, a wave of jealousy rolls over you. He had admitted to saying you were his, but he wasn’t yours. Ransom could still have any woman he desired yet when you saw those blue piercing eyes looking at you, you could feel you were the only woman he had eyes for, the only woman he desired.

But you couldn't get involved with Ransom Drysdale, you didn't want to get involved with him, even though every fiber of your being lusted after him. Because soon enough your past would come to light, even though Harlan knew of it and he trusted you, but this was Ransom you were thinking about, not Harlan. Harlan was gone and he wouldn't be able to protect you. You’d have to protect yourself, and you needed to be ready.

\-------

Linda sits crossed legged in her chair as she scans the information in the folder, she was handed minutes ago. She sips on her favorite tea - Earl Grey, as she soaks in every single detail.

“This is everything?”

“Yes, ma’am,” responds a deep Southern drawl, “everything you wanted on miss Y/L/N.”

Linda hums, sets her teacup aside. She takes a drag of her cigarette, “she’s a pretty thing. Born in the Midwest, raised in Vegas, went to,” Linda gasps, “she went to Harvard! My, my. Smart and pretty. She double majored in business and English, even went on to get her MBA,” Linda looks up at the private detective she hired, “what about her parents?”

“It’s all in there,” he sighs, “her mother died at seven, lived with her paternal grandmother for a year then moved out west with her father where he remarried a woman who already had two children of her own. Neither had more kids.”

“Does she keep in touch with them? Her father and stepmother? Her step siblings?”

“I really couldn't obtain phone records,” the man replies. He pauses but continues, “your Harvard grad there did purchase plane tickets back in November for roundtrip airfare to and from Vegas for the holidays. So, I am guessing she went home and saw them. But I don't know how often she speaks to them.”

Satisfied with the answer, Linda presses, “and what are father’s and stepmother’s professions?”

“Step-mother worked on a military base. She’s retired now.”

Linda hums again, “her father?”

The man glances away.

“Her father?” Linda questions angrily.

“Her father,” the man sighs, “is a F.B.I. agent who specializes in not only white-collar crime but organized crime as well.”

Linda’s cheery mood dampers, “are you _fucking_ kidding me!?”

The man shakes his head.

Linda takes her cigarette, stubs it out on her picture. _That bitch_. “She’s going to ruin my family!” _And she’ll be dealt with. Accordingly._ Linda laughs wickedly for a couple seconds, “I don't mind getting dirty. Don't mind at all. As long as _she_ is taken care of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> campo di battaglia - battlefield
> 
> l'elmento sorpresa - element of surprise
> 
> mia regina - my queen


	5. dichiarazione di guerra

The following morning you are greeted by two tall muscular men dressed in black suits with tight white shirts outside of your apartment building. They stand with their arms crossed, making them look scary and lethal.

“Miss Y/L/N,” inquires one of them. His black hair is cut close to his head, and his Russian accent thick.

You look between the two with curious suspicion, “uh, what?”

“Mister Drysdale has told us to keep an eye on you, for your safety and protection. We are to drive you wherever you need to go, accompany you on errands and so on,” the other man, who looks vaguely familiar with his buzz cut brown hair, responds with no accent.

_How the fuck did he find out where I live?_ You have to remind yourself this is Ransom Drysdale; he can find out anything he wants with the right persuasion. “Well you two tell mister Drysdale,” you say his name with disdain, “he can go fuck himself,” you walk pass them towards your car.

The two men look at each other and begin to follow you towards the parking lot. The one with the accent pipes up, “we cannot leave your side miss.”

You stop at your car, turn to face them, “did Ransom tell you I only work, what, ten minutes from here? I don’t work in the city!”

The unaccented one responds, “mister Drysdale hired us for your protection—”

“And safety! I get it!” You huff, recalling he was standing behind Ransom at the club the other night, “and what if I do my own thing? I don’t need his goddamn fucking men, no offense I’m sure you two are great at your job, protecting me. I can handle myself.” Your father, and stepmother, made sure of that since you were seven.

Your father’s a federal law enforcement agent and your stepmother was military. Both implementing strength and awareness from a young age. They even taught you self-defense, implying it's always best to stand up for yourself, and how to handle a gun. You were your own force to be reckoned with.

“We’ll keep watch ma’am,” Russian accent remarks, “it’s our job. Mister Drysdale said to watch you, protect you at all costs.”

You look between the two men. Knowing you’ll have to drive out to Thrombey Manor to confront Ransom about this. Yet he had informed you no harm would ever come to you as long as he was breathing air. You had rejected him and here he goes sending men to watch your every move.

“What are you to report back?”

Both men raise their eyebrows. Non-accent replies, “suspicious activity. We are under his employ, but we are here to protect you. At all costs.”

“So, what I do in my own free time won’t be reported back?” You inquire, thinking of your free time which would be spent with Nora and Ben.

“If that is what you want,” the accent replies, “but if we find it harmful, we will have to inform mister Drysdale.”

You roll your eyes, knowing if you refuse the ride, they’ll follow you in their own car, sit outside the bookshop, which in fact they will do, and make the townspeople talk. “Let’s just go before I lose it. Okay?”

The two men look at one another then back at you and nod their heads curtly. One begins walking towards a sleek black SUV, you follow suit soon after him, and the other man is close behind you. 

Your simmering rage becomes unbearable because Ransom Drysdale is becoming a thorn in your side - unpleasant and unappealing yet destined to leave a mark.

*

The same afternoon, Joyce Leiby, from Leiby’s Garden and Flower Shop stops by with a bouquet of lavender colored roses accompanied with baby’s breath and greenery in a crystal vase. She sets them on the counter and smiles, “delivery for you.”

“From?”

Joyce shrugs, keeps her million-dollar smile on, “read the card.”

You raise a brow as you grab the card, hoping they are from Ben. You open the envelope slowly and there’s a lone card inside. Your fingers trace over the expensive paper stock which has “please have dinner with me, R” written on it.

_Nope_ , you think as you put the card back in the envelope and place it back in the bouquet.

“Any chance you’ll take it back?”

Joyce nods her head, “nope, I’ve done my job of delivering them. Up to you about what you want to do with them,” Joyce turns to leave but stops and looks back at you, “any chance you’ll tell me why Ransom Drysdale is buying you flowers?”

_I rejected him_ , you think as your eyes roam over the bouquet. You had the notion the man didn't know how to sweep a woman of her feet but he did certainly try when he took you to Mamma Maria for dinner, which now, as you think about it more - he could have seen that night as a date and not just a business dinner like you had seen it as.

“Earth to Y/N!” Joyce’s cheery voice announces as she tries to get an answer from you.

You look at her with a raised brow and hum, “what?”

Joyce turns back around and leans against the counter, “why is Ransom Drysdale buying you flowers?”

“No rhyme or reason Joyce,” you smile as she raises a brow, “everything is fine. He’s just,” _trying to be a good person?_ You shake your head void of that thought. You now think, _Ransom Drysdale is not a good man_ , “he thinks he can have whatever he wants willy nilly now that he’s in charge, and he can’t.”

Joyce purses her lips, nods her head, “at least someone has the audacity to stand up to his pompous ass,” she turns to leaves, “hopefully you don't give in too quickly.”

\-------

“Another delivery for you Y/N,” Joyce smiles as she sets down a pretty bouquet arrangement of Oriental Lilies which are accompanied by greenery and pink and white carnations in yet another crystal vase.

“Thank you, Joyce,” you smile weakly in return as you take the vase and lift it towards your face. The smell brings calmness to yourself.

“You’re welcome. Are you going to eventually tell the boy yes?”

You look at Joyce. She’s been delivering bouquets of flowers to the shop, six out of seven days of the week, for the last two weeks. You shrug, “I don’t know.”

“Everyone on the main drag is whispering about Drysdale sending you flowers,” Joyce pauses, “they see me walking over here and are asking questions.”

You smile. Joyce had been running Leiby’s for twenty years now. She was a staple in the community and had been the first to welcome you and your bookshop to the town. She always checked on you from time to time and gave you fair warning about the Thrombeys.

_“I will give you a warning Y/N,” Joyce had stated one afternoon inside of your bookshop while you were setting everything up six years ago, “if Harlan Thrombey comes to visit, it’d be best to pay him. Keep him happy. You don’t want to end up on the wrong side of the road when it comes to the Thrombey family because if you do end up there, you’ll be six feet under, or worse, thrown into the harbor.”_

You now sigh heavily as you touch the card on the arrangement. No doubt it’s the same message as all the others – please have dinner with me, R. You haven’t seen him in two weeks either. You wonder what he’s been doing, who he’s been with. Jealousy begins to roll over you, so you quickly push aside any thought of him being with another woman. Why does it irk you if he’s been with other women? Is it because of the flowers and cards he sends you? Or is it because of the initial sex dream you had two weeks ago? So what if there’s been more appearances of him in your dreams. You are only human after all.

You also had the two personal bodyguards Ransom had hired, watching you and the store. They would pick you up promptly at nine thirty, drive you to the bookshop (and if you felt like it, you’d have them stop by the local diner for coffee and donuts). They’d sit outside in their black SUV but on most days, you invited them inside so they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves. You had even coaxed them into helping you with a few things around the store over the course of two weeks.

“We don’t mind Y/N,” Nico, the one without the accent, had remarked one day.

“We’re glad to be of service,” Sergei, the one with the accent, had simply stated shortly after Nico made his remark.

And when the day was done, they’d drive you home and bid their farewells after escorting you to your apartment door and making sure your living quarters were safe.

After the first two days of formalities, you told them to start calling you by your first name and in return you had learned their names. Now the three of you were close enough to probably be considered friends, and not protectee and protectors.

“I’m not just going to give into him, besides there are other things too,” you now remark to Joyce.

Joyce snorts, “the boy is sweet on you Y/N. Over the course of running Leiby’s Garden and Flower Shop, not once has he ever stepped foot in my doors, except to get a payment at Harlan’s behest when he started working for him, to buy flowers. Harlan frequented the shop plenty of times, he recommended Leiby’s to people who aren’t around here,” Joyce pauses, “and there are times I see you are busy and packed with people. I'm sure the old man made others aware they should frequent West Bank Bookshop and not another.”

You tap the card against the counter, gnaw on your bottom lip – a habit you desperately need to stop doing because you’ve been doing it every time you get the bouquet of flowers and look at the card with his handwriting, deciding if you should have dinner with the man.

“Thanks Joyce.”

“Guessing it’s another no?”

“Ding, ding.”

Joyce huffs and rolls her eyes then laughs, “guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow. Same time okay?”

You shake your head and laugh, “certainly.” 

\-------

Two weeks ago, Nico and Sergei were instructed, no, they were ordered by Ransom to protect Y/N.

“You two are to protect her at all costs,” he had pointed a finger at one then the other, “is that fucking clear?”

“Crystal,” Nico had retorted.

“Understood boss,” Sergei had remarked.

“Good! You’ll meet her at her apartment building, which I was able to get with some help, and tell her as much. You are not to leave her side!” Ransom had declared as he wrote the address he obtained from one of his many cops on the Weston P.D. force. “Also, any suspicious activity, report back to me, immediately.”

Nico and Sergei had nodded their heads curtly while one grabbed the piece of paper.

“Oh,” Ransom had sighed, “I want daily reports.”

“Got it.” Nico and Sergei had responded in unison.

*

Nico and Sergei, over the course of two weeks, had gotten to know Y/N. She wasn’t like most of the people they guarded in the Thrombey family, who were spiteful and cruel. Y/N was kind and quiet. She took time out of her own day to get to know them whereas the Thrombey didn't care for their lives outside of what they did for a living.

Sergei grew up helping his father with basic handyman jobs therefore began helping Y/N around the bookstore with little projects to help better the place. He was thankful to her when she paid him with kind words and sweet treats instead of deathly glares and slaps to the face like he had received from the people he had protected before her.

Nico had seen plenty of things over the course of his bodyguard career, but he had never seen Ransom Drysdale protect a woman before. He had seen Ransom with her at Elysium, seen the way his boss held her close, and saw the way Ransom defended her honor later by declaring Y/N as his. Nico knew when getting this assignment, he had to do his best or otherwise he’d be getting the same treatment as the fucker Ransom taught a lesson to.

Nico liked her the instant she rejected him and Sergei but eventually they grew on her and vice versa. Nico knew she wasn't like the other females he had seen Ransom with, she was special. 

“Hey boss.” Nico had called him a couple days ago.

“How is she today Nico?”

“She’s good. Sergei and I have been helping her around the bookshop. She’s getting to know us, which is nice.”

Ransom’s voice was light, not stern, when he uttered, “she’s one of a kind Nico.”

“She smiles a little bit more each day when she gets your flowers. The shop is starting to smell like a garden,” Nico had chuckled.

Even though Nico couldn't see him, Nico could hear the hope in Ransom’s voice and knew his boss was smiling big, “she deserves it all, and so much more.”

Nico had smiled to himself, “keep doing what you’re doing boss. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“Thanks Nico,” Ransom had paused, “and thanks for the call.”

“Welcome,” Nico had stated before hanging up.

Nico had turned to walk back across the street. He saw the lady from the flower shop walk in. As Nico approached the building, he saw you take the flowers and inhale their scent. Your smile was bright as you smelled the bouquet.

Nico knew his boss was right. _She deserves it all, and so much more._

\-------

You sit across from Ben, watch him as he pays for dinner. He had picked you up promptly at six-thirty and driven you downtown to eat at Ma Maison, a French cuisine, romantic style sophisticated restaurant near Longfellow Bridge. After catching the case a couple of weeks ago, which got taken care of within forty-eight hours, you and Ben had your third date which led to your fourth and fifth, your sixth as well, and now here you two were – lucky date number seven.

Over the course of the last three dates, things have gotten hot and heavy with Ben, and you desperately needed him to fulfill your womanly needs. You had been thankful to Nora for accepting another shift at the hospital so when Ben and you returned to your apartment, you and Ben would be able to enjoy each other intimately and you can finally rid yourself of Ransom Drysdale. You felt as soon as you and Ben had consummated the relationship, you’d be able to drive to Thrombey Manor and deny Ransom what he wants most in the world – you.

“Ready to get out of here?” Ben questions as he looks at you.

You smile, “you have no idea.”

Ben laughs as he stands. He holds out his hand, “let’s go then,” once your hand is in his and you’re standing, Ben pulls you up against him, “I want to get you home.”

You hear the desire in his voice. You two have been talking about the act of sex for a few days now. “I need a thorough body search detective,” you whisper teasingly.

“Oh, I can certainly oblige you,” Ben smirks before capturing your mouth and kissing you deeply.

You moan against his lips then pull away and for a fraction of a second when you pull away, you see Ransom staring back at you – not Ben. You tense in Ben’s arms.

“Are you okay?”

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the image, “yes,” you smile back at Ben, “how fast can you drive?”

“As fast as you want,” Ben replies lustfully.

Ben breaks the speed limit as he drives back to Weston and towards your apartment. Both of your mouths are fused together minutes before you get the apartment door unlocked. Once inside the apartment, you pull away from Ben and it’s not Ben looking at you but Ransom.

His ocean blue eyes, his devilish smile. “Come for me mia regina,” his voice echoes, “come for me.”

Your heart sinks as you look down. You feel tears stinging at your eyes. _Why! Why of all the men in the world your body craves, why does it have to be Ransom Drysdale?_

Ben slips a finger under your chin, he pulls your face up to look at him, “what’s wrong?”

You try to blink away the tears, “nothing.” You reach for Ben and kiss him softly, your hands roaming down the front of his maroon button down top. You feel wanted and needed by this man, by the man standing in front of you.

Ben gives into you and your kiss. His hands wrap around your body, pulling you up against him. Minutes later he pulls back, looks down at you and whispers, “is this what you want?”

“Yes,” you murmur as you look into Ransom’s eyes. No wait, Ben, you’re with Ben.

“You think he’d pleasure you like I will?” Ransom’s voice inquires inside of your head.

_Leave me alone Ransom_ , you think as you cup Ben’s cheeks then trace his jaw with a finger. _I want this man between my legs not you._

“You are mine, mia regina,” Ransom’s voice responds.

You swallow, looking up at Ben. He’s the right choice, the right man. Ben’s a good man. He’s a detective, he will protect you. Yet another man has been invading your dreams, your mind. Another man you desperately don't need, but want, will always be right there at the edge, ready to strike. 

You take a step back from Ben, look away for seconds then look back at him, “I can't do this Ben.” You begin to stutter, “I, uh, I do find you attractive but I just,” you sigh heavily, “this isn't going to work.”

You needed space from both men. You could close the shop, take a breather back in Vegas with your father and stepmother. You knew you could lose the protective detail especially since they dropped you off at home and left you to your own devices in the evening time.

“Talk to me please!” Ben pleads. “Everything was fine! Until we got here!”

“Ben please,” you whisper, trying to keep your emotions in, “I just, I can't. I need air, I need space. There’s other shit going on and I just, I,” you run your hands through your hair, “this isn't going to work! Okay?”

Ben huffs, “if you need space, I can give you space,” he cups your cheeks, strokes your skin, “I like you, I do. But please don't just waste away what we’ve had together.”

“You’ll meet someone else Ben,” you retort, “please don't make this any harder than it already is. Please.”

Ben drops his hands then walks to the door. He pauses before opening it, hoping you’ll tell him to stop or don’t leave, but you don't utter a single word. He leaves silently and once you hear the door close, you release out a deep and long sigh.

Seconds tick by slowly in the silence. Rage consumes you as your mind floods with Ransom’s face and voice. You still feel the touch of his hands against your skin, the touch of his lips against yours. He had visited your dreams more than once; he was becoming a regular.

You walk to the kitchen, wanting to grab a glass of water. You move past one of the multiple vases you’ve brought home. You take it in your hand, feeling the smooth and cold glass. Your rage is ready to be released. You raise the vase above your head and with all the strength you have, you forcefully throw it down. The glass shattering against the hardwood floor the only sound in the silence. Soon after, your sobs are the next sound echoing into the apartment.

*

Nora places her key in the lock and turns the handle. She purses her lips as she wonders why the door isn't locked. _Maybe Y/N and Ben were too busy trying to get their clothes off, Y/N forgot to lock the door._

Nora steps into the apartment and the first thing she notices is the shattered glass on the floor, then hears your sobs coming from the living room. Nora locks the door, places her bag on a lampstand then makes her way towards the couch.

She sits down and pulls you into her arms. She rubs your arms then moves one hand to your back, “what happened?”

“Ransom,” you sob.

“That fucker showed up here?” Nora demands.

You shake your head, “no. He kept invading my thoughts. I can't get rid of him Nora. I broke things off with Ben because Ransom is a fucking thorn!”

“So you decide to take your anger out on a vase?”

“He fucking bought the flowers!”

“You should go see him,” Nora ponders as she takes your hands into hers, “tell him to stop all the flowers. To leave you alone in peace!” Nora makes a smart comment by adding, “I mean giving you two bodyguards? It could've been one, or at least you know one male, one female. Let me have someone to look at ya know?”

You smile at Nora’s comment then protest, “he will never leave me alone Nora! I,” you sniffle, “I don't need to visit him! If I do, he’ll think he’s winning!” You sigh as you rest your head on Nora’s shoulder, “I should get away, go home for a while.”

“And close the store?”

You nod your head, “yes. There’s no one else who’d run it during the week. The college kids could handle a Saturday. You could open it for a day or two,” you suggest with a smile.

Nora snorts, “you know I know nothing about operating a bookshop. Now give me an injury, I’m your girl.”

Silence stretches wide between you and Nora.

“How did Ben handle you breaking off things?”

You shrug, “fine I guess.”

Nora doesn't press any further about details. She knows when you want to talk about it more you’ll tell her exactly how it all went down.

As you climb into bed an hour later, you think about the possibility of going home. Maybe talking to your dad would put your mind in perspective but he’d also talk you into returning home and leaving everything behind, which you didn't want to do. You had built a life here, had found your best friend here. You had a great guy but that was all pushed away when Ransom Drysdale walked into your life.

\-------

Another week goes by.

Six more bouquets adorn the back counter of the bookshop, making the place smell and look like a flower shop. Joyce asks if you ever are going to say yes, while she does enjoy the brisk walk to deliver your flowers and the slight boom in business, she also wants to return to her normal life of keeping to herself inside her shop.

Nico and Sergei have helped with adding additional Spring decorations to the ceiling, along with helping rearrange the children’s section, so when school is over, children may come in and have a place to read if needed.

Another day is nearly done as you begin counting down the register at a quarter to five. It’s serene as you think of what you could fix for dinner. You’d be dining alone for the third time because Nora has suggested going home with you so she’s been picking up extra shifts to earn extra money and get off for a few days.

_“I need a vacation too,” Nora had chuckled, “besides hanging in Vegas would be beneficial for us both,” she had glanced at you, “both of us could use a great screw into oblivion.”_

_You had laughed, both of you deciding to wait to buy tickets to Vegas until Nora got approval from the higher ups at the hospital. You had already talked to your college employees, all four eager to help out in any way they could._

The bell above the door chimes through the entire bookshop, bringing you back to the present. The sounds of Nico and Sergei talking quietly in the back are muffled in your ears as you watch a hooded figure make their way through the bookshop. You glance at the clock, ten minutes to five, then make your way towards them.

“May I help you find something?” You inquire with a smile in your voice.

“I need the mystery section, trying to find something for my mother. She loves them,” the nasally voice answers.

“Sure, it’s in the back of the store,” you turn on your heel, “follow me.”

You begin walking towards the back of the store then you feel arms wrap around your body. The sharp pinch of a needle pricks your skin at the base of your neck. Your hands go to grab at the arms, but your focus becomes blurry and your ears begin to ring.

Your body slumps and the person holding you slowly lets you drop to the floor. You blink your eyes trying to focus on the person above of you as you begin gasping for air.

“Never mess with a Thrombey,” the nasally voice remarks, “my son will know better than to involve himself with the law.”

You're reaching out for help then clawing at your neck because you can't breathe. The hooded figure disappears, and you try to roll yourself over but you can't. You're stuck looking at the ceiling full of origami birds and flowers. You try to shout, scream, anything to signal Nico and Sergei in the back to come and help you.

You begin scrunching your nose. It smells like burnt pizza, no, your mind’s becoming foggy. It smells like burnt paper, burning books. You’re warm all the sudden, you feel on fire.

_Fire_ , your mind shouts as smoke begins to slowly roll through the bookshop and overhead.

Your body is slowly losing its fight with life. Your heart rate is slowing as everything becomes a white void inside of your mind. You’ll never see Nora again, your father, your stepmother and step siblings. Your last thought before the darkness consumes you is of Ransom Drysdale and the moment of his soft lips against your cheek, claiming you as his.

\------- 

Sweat beads roll down Ransom’s face as he puts his muscular arms up in defense. “Come on Alexei. Come at me.”

Alexei hops around on the balls of his feet, his arms up. “You sure boss?” His Russian accent has been lightened by being in America for over thirty years now.

Ransom grins, “yes.”

Alexei charges forward and swings. He misses and Ransom gets the upper hand by putting him in a headlock. Alexei’s lungs begin to feel smaller and he taps out on Ransom’s forearm.

Ransom chuckles as he walks over to the corner of the ring to grab his water bottle.

“Great move boss.” Alexei retorts as he takes a drink from his own water bottle. 

“You always say that,” Ransom remarks as he grabs a towel and wipes off his face then moves it across his shirtless, well-defined muscular chest, “let’s go again.” He has been coming to the gym for the past three weeks to get out his frustrations. If the workouts and taking care of family business matters does not help, he resorts to relieving his frustrations by his own hand back at Thrombey Manor.

_Three weeks_ , he thinks as he sets himself up for another round, _three weeks of no response, of not seeing her face, of not hearing her voice. Three weeks of pure torture._

He’s consumed by her, only her.

“Boss?” Alexei declares as he walks over.

“What?”

“Nico’s on the phone. It’s about miss Y/L/N.”

Ransom snatches the phone, “is she okay?”

“Her bookshop, it’s been set on fire. W--”

Ransom doesn't need to hear anymore, “I’m on my way.”

*

Ransom swerves onto the main drag of Boston Post Road in Weston. Police cars and firetrucks line the street. He finds a spot and parks his car. He runs through the crowd of small people, coming towards the yellow caution tape.

“I can’t let you through mister Drysdale,” says a beat cop.

“Move out of my fucking way officer, or I’ll make sure you are a meter maid by tomorrow.”

The fire chief walks up, “let ‘em through.”

The beat cop doesn’t press any further as he lifts the yellow caution tape closing off the scene.

“Thank you chief,” Ransom remarks as he walks under the raised caution tape, “where is Y/N?”

“Hugh Drysdale?” A familiar voice questions.

Ransom turns around and faces the man you were canoodling with weeks ago when he first entered the bookshop. “It’s Ransom.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Ben retorts, “everyone knows you own this town Drysdale, but you’ve messed with the wrong woman.”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you?”

Ben whips out his detective’s badge, “Boston P.D.,” Ben takes a step closer, “did you have to ruin her livelihood because she wasn't paying you?”

Ransom’s heart races as his mind tries to formulate thoughts. He swallows, “I would _never_ hurt her.”

Ben scoffs, “says the fucking mob boss!”

“And why would you even be here? You’re Boston patrol, not Weston!” Ransom angrily exclaims.

Ben closes the distance and points repeatedly at Ransom, poking his chest, “she deserves to have someone here who has her best interest in hand.”

“I said,” Ransom huffs, “I would never hurt her. I don’t fucking care if you don’t believe me or not, detective,” Ransom enunciates the word like it’s poison, “she’s under my protection, my _personal_ protection.”

A light bulb goes off in Ben’s head and without hesitation he punches Ransom Drysdale square in the face. “So, you’re the other fucker. I knew there’s someone else!”

Ransom staggers back and is ready to come forward but the potbelly fire chief steps forward, “gentlemen. This is _not_ the place _or_ time for a fight.”

“That's the only cheap shot you're going to get, detective." Ransom warns as he rubs his jaw.

The fire chief snorts and shakes his head, “the both of you need to calm the hell down,” he looks between the two, “one of you has asked to help with the case so I suggest you get to work, detective Teller.”

Ben purses his lips and shakes his head then walks back towards the burnt to the studs building which housed the bookshop.

The fire chief eyes Ransom up and down, “you should go to Mass General Waltham, Drysdale.”

“I’m fine.”

The older man sighs, “the girl is there, along with your guard. Go before you do something else and I _have_ to have you arrested for tarnishing a crime scene.”

Ransom moves his feet backwards then turns around and runs to his car. He makes it to the hospital in less than five minutes. He doesn't care about stopping at the front desk for a badge. He just needs to find you.

He scrambles into the emergency room and begins frantically searching for your room. He spots you sitting on a bed inside of one. Your hair’s disheveled; your eyes look red and puffy. All he wants to do is hold you in his arms. He wants to reassure you you are okay, like he had done back at Elysium the night you two had your first date (he still considered it one, even though he knew you did not). A recognizable female nurse was checking you over and soothing you by rubbing your arm gently. She looks up when she sees him standing at the glass sliding door.

“Nora Hudson?” Ransom questions dryly.

Nora rolls her eyes and emphasizes, “go the fuck away Drysdale!”

“I’m here to see her!” Ransom shouts as he uses a hand to motion in your direction.

“You fucking did this to her!” Nora yells in return.

You feel small as you shrink back in your bed. You groan as your eyes sweep over them both, “will you two please stop?”

“He shouldn't be allowed in this room! In this building!” Nora counters as she stands tall and crosses her arms. “He shouldn't be allowed anywhere near you.”

“Please Nora!” Ransom begs. “I didn't do this! You think I would harm her?”

Nora recalls the bouquets of flowers at the bookshop and the ones you’ve brought home. She then remembers the shattered vase on the apartment floor. “You are a nuisance Ransom. You don't belong anywhere near her! Give her space, air to breathe! You can't just buy her with flowers and money!”

Ransom wants to hold you in his arms. He wants to feel your body against his, he wants to feel you against it in more ways than one but right now all he wants to do is console you. If he must reveal his cards to Nora too then so be it.

“I care for her,” Ransom whispers, “she’s the _only_ person who matters to me.”

You swallow as your eyes look at Ransom.

“Please Nora,” Ransom pleads.

Nora begins to open her mouth, but your words stop her, “enough, please, both of you are in my life. You should get used to one another. Whether you two like each other or not,” you sigh as you rest your head back, “you two are now forced to be in one another’s life because of me, so please, calm the fuck down.”

Nora huffs, “fine,” Nora looks back at you, “I’ll be back to check on you in five minutes.”

“Nora,” you groan out.

Nora shrugs and begins walking away, “ten minutes,” she stops and glares at Ransom. She’s too stubborn to say anything to the douchebag but must deal with his presence. She walks out of the room and sets her watch for ten minutes.

Ransom waits till Nora is fully gone before he rushes to your side. He cups your cheeks, strokes your skin. He places a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“What happened?” Ransom implores.

You close your eyes as you place your hands on top of Ransom’s, “someone walked into the bookshop and the next thing, I woke up here. Nora and Nico standing over me,” you open your eyes and let the tears fall, “the bookshop is gone. My livelihood is gone,” you swallow and look at Ransom, “Sergei’s gone too.”

Ransom presses his forehead to yours, vowing silently he’s going to find whoever did this and make them pay. “Don't worry about that. You can always rebuild. Sergei, I know, died protecting you, which was his job. I will make sure his family is taken care of.”

You press your eyes closed and open them, “I know. I know,” you look up into Ransom’s ocean blue eyes, “I need to tell you something.”

“What? Tell me anything.”

“Nora was furious when I arrived, she called my father and she told him about the fire. She even mentioned your name to him and he’s on the next flight out to Boston tomorrow.”

“I’m not leaving you alone during this. I can handle myself; I can handle him. I wasn't lying to Nora. I do care for you, you’re the only person who matters to me.”

“Ransom,” you lick your lips, “my father. He’s uh, he’s a federal law enforcement officer, works with the F.B.I.”

Ransom’s face drops but his hands remain on your skin. He’s connected to you now; his feelings have been revealed to you and Nora. He’s not going to go down without a fight. 

He takes a deep breath, strengthening his resolve. He places another kiss on your forehead, then to your cheek. He found himself inches away from your lips when he found himself whispering, so you and only you would hear it, "I'm not going anywhere."

\-------

Linda paces along the carpet inside of her living room. “Are you certain she didn’t perish?”

Benoit Blanc looks at the woman who hired him, “she did not,” he pauses dramatically, “but one of Drysdale’s men did perish in the fire.”

“What?”

“Your son placed two men with her, to protect her,” he ponders for a moment, “about three weeks ago.”

Linda sighs exasperatedly, “fuck!” Linda’s pacing increases, “my own son places her under fucking protection and not even himself! God, what has gotten into that boy!? I am going to have to speak to him about that, but, ugh,” Linda clenches her fists, “I have the pressing matter of getting rid of _her_.”

She knows she cannot go after the father. Killing the father would set off alarms, even worse, if things were traced back to her, she’d go to prison for murdering a federal law enforcement agent.

Linda knows what she must do, what she _has_ to do. Linda smiles kindly at Benoit, “thank you for everything, mister Blanc,” she escorts him towards the foyer of her luxury townhouse in Beacon Hill. 

“Are you certain, miss Thrombey?” Benoit inquires with his Southern drawl. He smiles in return as he shrugs on his jacket.

“I’m certain, detective. Thank you for everything,” Linda ushers him out the door and into the chill of a March afternoon.

Benoit stands on the porch, trying to figure out where he needs to go now.

Inside the townhouse, remaining in the foyer, Linda pulls out her phone. “Julian?” Linda questions as Ransom’s business partner picks up the other end.

“Linda, my darling, what is it?”

“I’m going to place a hit on that bitch! And if that doesn’t work, we’ll go through with our other plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> campo di battaglia - battlefield
> 
> dichiarazione di guerra - declaration of war
> 
> mia regina - my queen


	6. terra di nessuno

__  


**_Three weeks ago_ **

Linda lights a cigarette as she watches Julian get out of her bed. She drags on the cigarette for a couple of seconds then releases the smoke as her eyes roam over his short brown hair and beard then downward to his muscular torso. The smell of nicotine mixing with sex puts a smile on Linda’s face. No one knows her and Julian have been sleeping together for a couple of years.

Her father didn't know when he was alive, Richard certainly had no clue, and Ransom was in the dark regarding this guilty pleasure she had with the young man who was her son’s business partner, and friend.

“You said Ransom was at the club Friday night?” Linda inquires as her eyes roam over Julian’s muscular physique as he opens the curtains to the balcony window. Her body’s ready for another round.

“He was,” Julian responds, “with a woman.”

Linda rolls her eyes and scoffs, “probably some bimbo, someone willing to open their legs for him.”

Julian shakes hivs head and grins, “he called it a date.”

Linda rolls her eyes as she thinks back on the extensive history of her son’s sexual conquests through the years. “Ransom probably doesn't know what a date entails.” 

Julian walks over to where Linda is resting in the bed, sits down next to her, and takes the cigarette out of her hand. “He sure protected her from some asshole, trying to make moves on the woman.”

Linda raises her eyebrows. As far as she knows, her son has never protected anyone, except himself. “He say who it was?”

Julian takes a drag on the cigarette, “I saw the whole confrontation between Ransom and the asshole. She looked vaguely familiar. She might own the bookshop in Weston next to the flower shop, if my mind remembers correctly.”

_Months prior, Julian had walked out of Leiby’s with a bouquet of blood red roses and made his way back to his car. The sun’s rays caught themselves on the window of a store and Julian couldn’t help himself as he turned and looked in._

_Inside the store was her, smiling brightly at a person as she helped them find a book. Julian was mesmerized. He had to know her. He had to hear her voice. He’d been with Linda for so long now, he was beginning to crave young flesh again. Perhaps a side piece because he still wanted the power of being on the throne with Linda. Julian looked down at the bouquet._ Linda can wait, but she can’t _. Julian hurried to his car, ditched the bouquet on the front seat then made his way back to the bookstore._

_He walked in and the smell of books greeted him as he heard a register close and couldn’t help but feel himself harden at her voice as he watched her behind the counter._

_“I’ll see you in a couple weeks when the author’s new release hits the shelf.”_

_Julian didn’t care about the response from the other person, but when they left all he cared about was approaching her, talking to her, having her smile at him. Julian straightened his tie then fixed his sleeves before he walked over to her. He wanted to give off the professional businessman aura as he flirted shamelessly with her._ Linda would never know _, he thought as he began undressing her with his eyes. He had to calm the fire within him along with his hard cock, which had a mind of its own, as he finally closed the distance between them._

_“Good afternoon,” she had smiled at him with both her plush lips and glimmering eyes, “may I help you find something?”_

_He had smiled in return, “yes.”_ A darkened corner for you and me. _He cleared his throat, “I love mystery and I am having a difficult time finding something to read after the latest book I devoured. Maybe you could recommend something to help cleanse the palate?”_

_She had raised a brow, “something different from mystery? So, when you are finished, you’d know you prefer suspense and danger over something trivial like fiction or romance?” She had laughed lightly._

Fuck _, Julian had thought inside his mind while his cock was thinking:_ we should just take her now _._

_Julian had only shrugged in response then whispered, “whatever you recommend."_

Julian now recalls as she touched his arm in kind gestures when they roamed around the bookstore, trying to find a book, when in all actuality he wanted to spend more time with her. He couldn't get her out of his head for days. He had imagined her face, her body, her voice every time he fucked Linda for weeks after their encounter. He’s definitely going to picture her during their next go around.

Linda crosses her arms, “I know every business in Weston who pays the Thrombeys and there is no bookstore!” Linda snatches the cigarette back and takes another drag, “you sure she’s from Weston?”

Julian shrugs as he leans forward and nips at Linda’s neck, “I don’t remember, my darling. Watching Ransom save her was mesmerizing, like watching a moth dance close to the fire and not wanting to look away as it slowly succumbs to the thrall of the flame.”

Linda sighs happily as she stubs out her cigarette. She runs her hands over Julian’s stomach and chest, notices his cock hardens instantly. Linda loved the sexual prowess of Julian. She couldn't help herself when she laid her eyes on him and he was willing to bed her. He promised never to tell Ransom; he promised to keep their affair private until Linda got rid of Ransom and proclaimed the Thrombey throne as hers.

Julian moves a hand under the sheet, running a finger over Linda’s stomach. “What’s your plan?”

She moans at Julian’s light touch, “I’ve read an article about this private detective, _world class_ private detective. I’ll hire him to find out more about her,” she slips a finger under Julian’s chin and brings his mouth to hers. She kisses him slowly then whispers, “if my son protected her, then she needs to go. And then once she’s gone, we’ll take care of him.”

Julian smiles, “I’m ready to do your bidding whenever you want me to, my darling.”

Linda lets pleasure and heat rollover her body, along with the thrill of finally sitting on the Thrombey family throne and ruling the kingdom with Julian, and without her deadbeat cheating husband Richard, and without Ransom, who was keeping the throne warm for her.

\-------

**_Present day_ **

“I want you to stay with me at the Thrombey Manor until I figure out who did this,” Ransom pleads as you walk out of the hospital and towards the SUV you’ve been a passenger in for the last three weeks.

Nico stands guard by the back door, while someone else sits in the driver’s seat.

“No Ransom,” you whisper your protest as Nico takes your bag then opens the door for you, “I’m not staying there, especially with my father coming to town.”

You were released from the hospital with only minor injuries, scrapes and some smoke inhalation. The doctor had informed you that you had been drugged at some point with a paralytic agent. Unfortunately you still couldn't remember much.

You begin to climb in but Ransom tugs on your arm and pulls you up against him. His hand runs through your hair as he places his lips against his forehead. You thought he was going to kiss you last night, but he didn’t. You desperately wanted to feel his lips against yours, and in other places too.

“Fine, if you won’t stay with me at the manor then you can stay at my old house. You’ll have the whole house to yourself. The place is practically a fortress with the amount of security I invested in it. Stay there. Please.” His voice is no louder than a whisper.

You close your eyes as you soak in the intimacy this moment has. You feel his hand in your hair, the other one wrapped around you holding you against him. You look at him, “Ransom, I don’t want to be a burden.” You note the slight glassiness to his eyes, like he's trying to hold back tears. 

Ransom cups your cheek, “you are no burden. Never,” his thumb strokes your skin then moves across your lips, “Nico will be with you inside the house at all times and I will have men guarding outside the house twenty-four seven. Nora may come and stay so that way you have some company besides Nico. Your father can stay as well while he’s here.” _I want him to know you are my priority, under my care. You are my everything._

Ransom wants to sweep his mouth against yours but if he does, he knows he will want more. 

The scenario quickly runs through his head _: he would climb into the backseat of the SUV, not caring about Nico and Alexei hearing him claim you once and for all as his. Ransom knows they’ve seen everything, heard everything but Ransom also knows he wants no other eyes on your body. He wants no one else to see your naked flesh and get any ideas. Besides, Ransom wants his first time with you to be in his bed because Ransom knows once he sees you in it, he will want you there for the rest of his life. He wasn’t lying to himself during the time apart from you – he was consumed by you, only you. You were going to be all he ever needed._

Was Hugh Ransom Drysdale slowly falling in love? The one thing he thought would never happen because he shielded himself from it completely. 

“I want you and your father to join me for dinner at the manor.”

“Ransom, you and I, we” you stutter as your hand gestures between the two of you, “we are not a couple.”

“I want him to know I have your best interest in hand,” he smirks as he uses the detective’s words from the previous night. “I want your father to know I am not going anywhere,” Ransom presses his forehead against yours, “I told you as long as I breathe you are under my protection.” His voice is a whisper, “you are mine.”

Your body begins to hum with desire and electricity. He hasn’t said those three words to you since you confronted him at the bookstore weeks ago. Your mind plays through the multiple dreams you’ve had with Ransom playing the starring role. He uttered those words to you every time he claimed you inside your fantasyland. He had also whispered ‘mia regina’ as well.

You reach up and cup his cheek, “Okay, as long as you promise me your family will not be there.” The smile that breaks out on his face is electric, “I promise.” He vows with a toothy grin.

You turn from his embrace to get in the car but you stop yourself and turn back, “I have a question.”

“Anything.”

“Would you know what ‘mia regina’ means?”

Ransom raises a brow, “Italian for my queen. Why?”

You smile and step away from him, “no reason.”

“I don’t get an explanation?” Ransom questions with his eyebrow raised as he watches you climb into the backseat of the SUV.

“One day you might,” you reply before Nico closes the door.

Seconds later, Nico hops into the front passenger seat and looks at the driver, “to her apartment Mikhail,” he turns to look back at you, “mister Drysdale wants you to pack what you need. He’s unsure how long you’ll be at his house in Lincoln.”

“And what about my father?” You knew he had left Vegas on an early flight, you had informed Ransom of the information. Your eyes look at the dash and notice the time, “he should be landing soon.”

Nico turns back around as Mikhail begins driving, “we are to wait for him at your apartment then take you both to mister Drysdale’s personal house.”

_That’s going to be fun_ , you think sarcastically as you try to formulate how you’re going to explain to your federal law enforcement agent father you had gotten involved with the notorious Thrombey mafia family and their new king – who was slowly becoming your undoing. 

\-------

“That _man_ cannot protect you sweetie!” Your father shouts as you pack a suitcase and duffel bag with clothes and several belongings. “Men like that, they only care about one thing and that is their own survival. Everything else is expendable: his men, his family and especially you! Do you really think he cares about you? I can tell you right now sweetie, he doesn't.”

“Dad, you’ve been working as an agent far too long,” you retort, trying to keep your voice calm.

“Well, when my daughter said she wanted to go to college on the East Coast because she wanted a change of scenery, I let her do that,” Harry sighs, “but then she wanted to stay and live within a state where there are as many mafia families as there are Starbucks! Excuse me for wanting to look out for you, excuse me for wanting you back west with me and Rose, and the boys!”

“Do I need to remind you that we are grown now dad? We can do whatever we please,” you look at him, “you and Rose taught all three of us to stand up and protect ourselves, which is what I have done with Harlan and Ransom!”

“And now someone is after you because of Ransom! Some sociopath tried to _kill you_ because of Ransom.” Harry enunciates his name with loathing. “I mean what kind of person gives a child the middle name Ransom.” Harry rubs his forehead, “I know Harlan protected you. He was a wise man. He saw you as his own daughter.”

You look over at your father and raise your eyebrows. You knew they had met. Harlan disclosed it to you one afternoon and shortly after, you confronted your father and he admitted just as much.

Harry looks at you now, “I commended him for being a father figure to you, for you. God knows I wasn't much of one while I scoured the country looking for work and fell in love with Rose. I know I wasn’t one when you first moved out to Vegas. Spent my hours working because I couldn't face the fact I had failed you as a parent.”

“You didn't fail me dad,” you utter, “I mean it took us years to finally come together and have a healthy father-daughter relationship,” you laugh, remembering Rose forcing him to take you to father-daughter activities throughout your childhood, “but I wouldn't trade you for another father,” you sit next to him on your bed, “if it wasn't for you instilling in me to be confident and aware of the world around me, I don't think I would’ve had the courage to stand up for myself and for my dream when Harlan Thrombey walked into my life and then again when Ransom Drysdale did.”

Harry ponders for a moment, “what exactly is your relationship with him? I mean, you have to mean something to him sweetie,” Harry makes a motion with his hand moving in a circle, “he wouldn't be providing you with security, or setting you up in his house, if you didn't mean _something_ to him.”

You avoid your father’s eyes. “I am nothing to him dad. Like you said, I am nothing but expendable to him.” your voice is just a whisper.

“You sure about that?” Harry retorts softly.

You freeze at that. You had to admit your dad did have a point. While you did know of Ransom’s interest towards you, and the fact he had already seemingly claimed you as ‘his’, what was the extent of his feelings? He was placing you under his protection, letting you move into his personal home. It was true you did mean _something_ to him. 

The more important question however was, what did he mean to you? Your body did crave him. It’s all you could think about with Ransom. You wanted him as a sexual release, nothing more. You didn't want to get tied up with him, which meant a relationship, which could lead to eventual heartbreak because of who he was and what he was involved with. Which, in the end, would mean moving far away from the state of Massachusetts. 

*

An hour later, Mikhail and Nico are walking beside you as you and your father approach the remains of what’s left of your bookstore. You try to hold in the tears but they come and you can’t control yourself as you sob.

Harry turns and embraces you, “hey now, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he sighs as he rubs your back soothingly, “you can't be replaced but your dream can be rebuilt.”

You nod as you try to regain your composure. You eye a familiar face walking towards you, “Ben?”

Ben smiles, “Y/N.” He then looks at the man embracing you with a raised brow.

“Uh, dad. This is Ben Teller. He’s a detective with the Boston P.D.” You remark as you step away from your dad and wipe at your face with the back of your jacket sleeve, “Ben this is my father, Harry Y/L/N.”

“Boston P.D.?” Harry questions as he shakes Ben’s outstretched hand, “isn’t this a little out of your jurisdiction?”

Ben shakes Harry’s hand, keeping his smile plastered on, “this was considered a two-alarm fire. I heard the call over the radio and recognized the name. I told Weston’s fire chief Kinzel, I’d be willing to help with the investigation.”

Harry surveys the ruins then glances at Ben, “and how is it you know my daughter?”

Ben laughs as he runs a hand over his head, “your daughter and I dated for a bit.”

Harry glares at you as you swallow and avoid his eyes. You can practically hear him yelling at you in his head, _you traded a cop for a mob boss?_ _What has gotten into you?_

“Did my daughter tell you what I do for a living?”

“She said you were FBI, not much else,” Ben replies as he glances in your direction. Part of him aching to hold you again. He hasn't thought about much else, or anyone else since you told him things were over between the two of you.

“Hey, Teller,” Kinzel states as he makes his way over, “find out anything else?”

Ben sighs, “it hasn't changed from when you last asked me an hour ago, chief.”

Harry looks at the potbelly man, “fire chief?”

Kinzel eyes Harry suspiciously, “yes?”

“I’m with the FBI, care to tell me what you know?” Harry questions as he begins to walk through the ruins.

Kinzel raises his eyebrows and follows, leaving you and Ben alone.

_Typical dad, have to insert yourself right into the case, don't you?_ You watch your father and Kinzel walk through the ruins of your bookshop.

Ben’s eyes travel up and down your body, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you remark sharply. You frown, “sorry. It’s just, my dad, he, uh,” you stammer with trying to find the right words, “he’s looking out for me.”

“He could’ve lost you. I understand his concern.”

You eye Ben, taking in his blue eyes and blond hair. You take in the goatee he has along with the light blond fuzz on his cheeks. _Why did I end things with him?_ Oh, right, Ransom - the thorn in your side, destined to leave a mark, which he was doing.

Ben nods towards Mikhail and Nico who are standing five feet behind you, “what’s with the men in black?”

“Protective detail.”

“Courtesy of Drysdale?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sleeping with him?” he asks sharply, not even trying to hide the anger in his voice.

You swallow down your annoyance, “no, I am not.” You were getting really tired, really fast of the people close to you in your life thinking you were some common whore who opened her legs for Ransom Drysdale the second he came into your life.

While you may not be able to escape him in your subconscious ( _not that you really wanted to_ ), you were still trying to sort through the muddled mess of feelings you may possibly have for Ransom and none of them were leading to you jumping into his bed, at least not right now.

Ben closes the distance between the two of you as he places his hands in his pockets. He wants to reach out and touch you but knows he must hold back. “This wouldn't have happened if we were together Y/N.”

“You think I don't know that?” you ground out. You want to shout at him but you don't, instead you say, “I’m not _with_ Ransom.”

Ben sighs and shakes his head, “well someone obviously thinks you are.”

You watch Ben retreat from where he was standing to go talk with your father and the fire chief. You turn on your heel and walk towards the SUV. Mikhail and Nico flanking you on the right and left.

Nico sees your distraught expression, “you okay Y/N?”

“Yes, Nico, I’m fine.” A frustrated tear escapes your eye but you quickly wipe it away.

Nico raises a brow as he places a hand on the door, “shouldn't we wait for your father?”

“Knowing him, this is exactly where he wants to be. Investigating a crime is where he feels the most at home,” you sigh as Nico opens the door, “he has my number, he’ll call me.” You also needed a break from him. He had only been in town for a couple of hours and he was already getting under your skin.

\-------

Linda drives slowly down the main drag of Boston Post Road; she takes in the ruins of the bookshop and smiles to herself. She notices _her_ talking with a blonde hair detective standing aside her father (private detective Benoit Blanc was able to acquire a picture of the man).

_Daddy’s in town_ , Linda thinks as happiness rolls over her, _come to rescue his baby. And hopefully, take her far away from here._

Linda keeps driving through Weston, makes her way to the house she grew up in which is currently being occupied by her son. She keeps her smile on, she made all this possible. She killed her father and now she was in the process of getting rid of the one person who could ruin it all – _her_.

Linda steps into the warmth of the manor and throws her coat into Fran’s arms. “I’m here to see my son Fran. Let him know I’ll be in the library.”

Fran eyes Linda conspicuously, “Ransom wants no visitors missus Drysdale.”

“I am no common visitor! I am his mother. Now go fetch my son,” Linda huffs, “and for god’s sake when Richard’s not around it’s miss Thrombey.”

Fran considers putting in her two weeks at this moment, but she needs the job and also fearful she might not get employment elsewhere because miss Linda Thrombey would tarnish her name to everyone within the state needing a housekeeper.

“Certainly, miss Thrombey,” Fran utters as she places the fur coat away, “I will go inform mister Drysdale you are here.”

Linda waves her away as she walks into the library.

Fran makes her way up the stairs and to the master bedroom. She knocks briskly on the door, no response therefore opening it and seeing Ransom isn’t there. Fran then hears a noise from the attic and proceeds up to the third floor.

Fran knocks on the attic study door, “mister Drysdale?”

“Come in,” Ransom responds dryly from the other side.

Fran opens the door and smiles, “your mother—”

Ransom sighs, “I know she’s here Fran. Thank you.”

Fran smiles weakly, “you’re welcome,” she turns to leave but is stopped by Ransom’s soft voice.

“Fran?”

“Yes?” She questions as she faces the young man.

Ransom sets aside the book. His fingers had been tracing the West Bank Bookshop stamped logo for minutes. He was longing for her and trying to think who would want to hurt her. Then he had concluded someone wanted to hurt him by getting rid of her. He had an inkling someone within his family, or the kingdom, wanted to hurt him and she was the only answer.

“You are friends with Y/N, right?”

Fran swallows, “I am.”

“You would never hurt her, would you?”

“God, no,” Fran becomes panicked, “she’s one of my closest friends. I would never hurt her. I had nothing to do with the fire.”

Ransom stands and walks toward her, “I know Fran. I know,” he begins to descend the steps, “you might want to get some tea going. Who knows how long this’ll be.”

Fran stands frozen for a minute. Ransom’s usually on her case the minute she walks into a room but today it was different. He wasn’t the typical asshole she’d come to know over her course of employment at Thrombey Manor. Something had changed in Ransom’s life. _Someone_ , Fran thought as she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, _someone had walked into Ransom’s life and begun to show him a glimmer of hope_. Fran places the kettle on the stove and thinks, _hopefully that someone is Y/N_.

*

Ransom prepares himself before walking into the library. He’s not ready to hear what his mother has to say about anything. He’s in charge, not her. He sits on the throne of power, not her. Ransom’s mind begins to think.

Linda had wanted him on the throne for a couple years now. Trying to persuade Harlan to retire and rest at his old age but Harlan refused her every time, telling her he’d never give up the throne unless it was “over my dead body.”

Ransom shook his head and chuckled, thinking, _would my own mother resort to killing Harlan?_

That couldn’t happen, _or could it_? But if Linda wanted Harlan dead, what would she gain from it? She wouldn’t be in charge; Ransom would be in charge. Yet Ransom knew the kind of power his mother still had in this town even though no one paid her much attention. The other families knew Linda to be a snake and knew not to believe what fell out of her mouth.

Linda Thrombey-Drysdale still carried weight in these parts of the country. Ransom was sure of it. But if she wanted the throne for herself, wouldn’t it mean killing Ransom? Her own blood? Her own son?

Ransom pondered for a slight moment. There was no one to claim the throne if he suddenly died. No one except Linda. Ransom churned the thought again inside his head, _no one. Except Linda._

Ransom pushes all his thoughts aside as he walks into the library. “Mother.”

Linda turns away from the enormous knife display, which consisted of both real and fake knives. A smile displayed on her face, “son. How are you doing today?”

Ransom raises his brow, “you seem awfully chipper today.”

Linda smiles, “I’m happy something is occurring, which doesn’t concern you,” Linda pauses as she makes her way towards a chair and sits, “but I did hear about the fire in town. How awful. One of your own businesses.”

“It’s my town mother. Not my business. I don’t own them.” Ransom retorts as he eyes the knife display, wondering if his mother was thinking of which to use on him, or which she thought to use on Harlan.

“But still it’s sad to see that happen,” Linda eyes Fran who walks in with a tray, which has the fancy china kettle and teacups on it, “which business was it?”

“Why are you here mother?”

Linda notes silently how he didn’t answer her question. She presses on to another matter, “you should have men protecting you Ransom. I know you’re independent and love your Beamer, but what if this _fire_ is an attack on you? Someone trying to get to you?”

Ransom had spoken to the fire chief earlier the same morning. He knew it was arson, knew someone was trying to harm Y/N.

_“It’s been declared an arson, mister Drysdale,” fire chief Kinzel had remarked over the phone earlier. “Detective Teller even pulled surveillance from a couple area businesses. Noticed a hooded figure walking along the main drag and threw a Molotov cocktail through the window.”_

_Ransom had only responded with, “thanks.”_

_He had then proceeded to make his way to the attic room, ran his fingers along the books again, and thought about the conversations Harlan and Y/N had within the four walls of the room. Ransom knew if Harlan protected her with all he had then he should be able to do the same but yet someone had gone after her therefore meaning they were going after him too._

Ransom remains standing as he looks down at his mother now. “If it’ll make you happy, mother.”

Linda stirs in sugar, then sips at the warm tea, “I want you to have a long life Ransom. I don't want it going to waste when you’ve only had the power for a month.”

Ransom smiles weakly, “I will get some of my men to personally escort me to important matters.”

“Ransom,” Linda sighs heavily, “you need to be protected at all times. Inside this house! Outside of this house! Twenty-four seven!” Linda sets her tea aside and stands. She smoothes out her skirt, “I am not going to lose my son weeks after losing my father!”

“I said I will get some--”

Linda interrupts, “you should be closely guarded Ransom! I want two men with you at all times!” Linda continues, “I have some of my men--”

“Mother!” Ransom hisses as his anger slowly begins to simmer. “I am in charge! Not you! Didn't I kindly remind you last time not to question me?”

Linda tries to calm herself; she’s trying to get some spies within the walls of Thrombey Manor. She sits back down, frowns then grabs the teacup. “Promise me, Ransom.”

“I promise, mother,” Ransom dryly remarks, “but they will be my own men, none of yours.”

“Good,” Linda beams a smile towards her son, “now, let’s proceed to discussing the upcoming meetings in Italy.”

Ransom takes a seat across from his mother. He glances towards the knives, all glimmering in the light. He begins to wonder which one to use on his mother. He thinks about the silver metal slicing open her skin, blood spilling out and pooling on the floor.

Ransom moves his eyes to his mother. He wonders if she thought the same thing in regard to Harlan, and in regard to himself. 

\-------

A couple days later, Mikhail drives the SUV up the gravel drive towards Thrombey Manor. It’s nearing dusk, which makes the house look ominous as Mikhail pulls into the circular area of the drive and parks the car. The dogs’ ferocious barks break through the silence.

“Looks like a house from a horror movie,” your father remarks lightly, recalling a night long ago when he drove up to another ominous house on the outskirts of New York City. That night changed Harry’s life forever.

You're sure this house has seen enough horrors over its lifespan, “it may look menacing and the family inside of it might be intimidating but we'll survive.”

“Family?” Your father inquires.

You laugh as Nico opens the car door, “it’s just Ransom dad. His family isn't here.” _They better not be, he promised._

_“It’ll be me, you, and your father, like I said before. No one else.” Ransom had remarked over the phone the previous night, “I want none of those bloodsuckers here.”_

_“You promise?” You had questioned, holding the phone close to your ear. You hadn't seen him in days. After moving into his old house and into his own bedroom, which Nico said to make sure you take because it was the boss’ orders - you have the master suite, not Nora, not your dad. You._

_“Yes, I promise,” he had sighed lightly and uttered, “I can’t wait to see you Y/N.”_

_You had waited a beat, unsure of what to say then the words “goodnight Ransom” had tumbled out of your mouth before you disconnected the call. You were still unsure what he was to you._

You and your father walk through the front door as Nico closes it behind you. To say you are nervous would be an understatement. The quaking in your stomach is threatening to get worse. You need to remind yourself to breathe. This whole scenario screamed ‘bad idea’ yet you need to prove to your dad Ransom isn't a threat to you. 

In the foyer you are greeted by Fran who quickly comes to give you a hug as you have not seen her in some time. She’s been worried about you since she heard what happened.

“Y/N, I am so glad you are okay!” She releases you, giving you a relieved smile, “may I take your coats?” She offers as she looks between you and your father.

“Oh yes. Thank you.” You remark as you and your father shed your coats and hand them over.

You look around for Ransom when Fran comes back from the closet, “dinner will be ready in a few moments.” She informs before slipping back towards the kitchen to check on the progress of dinner. You are surprised Ransom was not right at the door greeting the two of you as soon as you arrived. 

*

Ransom paces inside the library. He knows Y/N and her father would be here any moment. He’s nervous. Not nervous to see her, no. He was excited, hell, he was over the moon he got to see his girl. Ransom was nervous because he was about to meet her father, an FBI agent, and from the sounds of it, an overprotective father. Anything was bound to happen. Ransom was doing breathing exercises as he paced. He needed to keep his heart rate down. As long as he could be calm when they arrived and remain calm during dinner, he would be fine. 

The dogs outside began barking which was a telltale sign a car has pulled into the driveway. “Okay, whatever happens, don’t let him get under your skin. It’s just dinner.” He reminds himself.

His ears perk up to the sound of your’s and Fran’s voice in the foyer. God, he missed the sound of your voice. He missed you so much. The moments the two of you were apart were moments he found he couldn't breathe right. Like there was a weight on his chest leaving his lungs ragged and strained. Those three weeks of not laying his eyes on you were indeed pure torture. 

_Well, it's now or never_ , he thinks as he exits the library and walks down the short hallway where he sees you and your father standing. The moment you come into his view, he’s able to breathe again. Fresh, crisp air entered his lungs and just like that, he was alive.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he has to force himself not to run and sweep you into his arms. Instead he comes to your side, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek and a quick whisper into your ear, “I missed you.” He enjoys seeing the dusting of pink that covers your face when he pulls away.

However, his joy is muted when his gaze comes to your father. His gaze was nothing but serious. “Ransom, this is my father Harry Y/L/N.” You introduce as Ransom offers Harry his hand, “it is a pleasure to meet you sir.” Harry accepts Ransom’s extended hand and shakes it once, in a strong grip, before releasing it. “Thank you both for coming, shall we move to the dining room?” He gestures to his side and leads the two of you into the next room.

Fran is waiting inside the dining room. She happily greets you and shows you to your seats. The oak dining room table is set beautifully with fine china. Ransom sits at the head of the table while you and your father are seated at opposite sides of him. 

Fran comes around pouring wine and water. You silently thanked the alcohol you were about to drink, willing it to act quickly in calming your nerves. You felt like you were sitting ringside to a championship boxing match between two archrivals. You can see it now: 

**Ransom Drysdale versus Harry Y/L/N in an epic grudge match; first to T.K.O wins.**

A heartbeat of silence passes and Ransom figures he needs to break the ice, as he is the host. “Mister Y/L/N I would just like to say--” he begins but is quickly cut off when Harry raises his hand and interrupts, “I’m going to stop you right there. I am not here to listen to your honeyed words and engage in small talk. I am here because my daughter was almost killed. Her place of business was burned to the ground. Her life is currently being threatened by unknown parties and all of this happened because she is involved with you. To what capacity that involvement entails, I don’t know and quite frankly, I am not sure I want to know.” 

_Alright skipping the pleasantries and going right for the throat_ , Ransom thinks as he straightens himself in his chair. His gaze is now laser focused on Harry. 

You quickly down your entire glass of wine. Looking up at the ceiling you pray to whatever god above, asking if they could just strike you down dead, here and now so you don’t have to deal with this pissing contest your father is starting.

“I can assure you no harm has _ever_ or _will ever_ come to her from me. I have taken every precaution to ensure her safety even before the fire. I had a two man bodyguard detail on her for a good portion of the day, every day. It would have been a twenty-four seven detail, but she refused. Since the fire happened, I have gone to even greater lengths to ensure her safety by having her stay in my old home, which you are currently at, and which is under twenty-four seven protection. Y/N’s safety and happiness are my only priorities right now.” Ransom informs Harry. He will not stand to have someone question whether or not Y/N was safe with him.

“So, you value her safety above your business?” Harry cocks his head to the side slightly, raising his eyebrow in question. “Mister Drysdale, I know you know what I do for a living. I also trust you know that I know your business is not in any way legitimate. While I may not know exactly who you are in bed with, I can easily find out with a few phone calls. All you mobsters are the same.” He shakes his head with utter condescension. Remnants of an argument long ago begin to play inside of Harry’s head. He can’t let the past dictate what is happening currently with his daughter. He pushes that night aside. Harry needs to focus on you.

“Dad!” you scold. Your father was starting to get out of line. Ransom can feel his eye twitch. He is annoyed. He doesn’t like being annoyed. 

You are surprised but greatly appreciative of Ransom’s efforts to remain as respectful as possible given your father's current line of questioning.

“Mister Y/L/N, I’m not going to insult your intelligence and deny what you are accusing me of. Yes, I happen to be in the mob and yes, I happen to be _the_ mob boss. However, like I said before, your daughter’s safety and happiness are my only priorities.” Ransom couldn't help but look at you as he finished speaking.

Harry scoffs, shaking his head, “oh please, if you cared about my daughter at all, you would dissolve whatever relationship the two of you have. She will never have a real life, one where she is safe and happy if she is involved with you.” Harry states firmly. A whisper of words plays in Harry’s mind ‘love knows no bounds.’ Harry quickly silences it by taking a small sip of wine, hoping the alcohol will drown out the past.

Ransom sniffs, annoyed at this conversation. “I’m sorry but I can’t let that happen.” Harry looked like he was about to interrupt but Ransom pounded a fist on the table, the sudden impact made you and the dinnerware jump.

Ransom sits straighter in his chair and points at your father, “and before you interrupt me, I need to make one thing very clear, I will not dissolve anything between your daughter and I. The reason is because I love her, I am in love with her, I want her in my life and I will do anything in my power to make that happen, as long as she feels the same way.” He spares a glance at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

You are shocked by Ransom’s words. Hearing him declare his love for you out loud made your heart skip a beat and your breath hitch. While you knew he had feelings for you, you had no idea they ran _that_ deep. You were suddenly feeling a warmth in your belly that was starting to flutter downward between your legs quickly. _If only I hadn't drank all my wine._

“Excuse me?” Harry stands abruptly, his chair falling backwards behind him. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He feels sick to his stomach. “You don’t even know my daughter! Do you really expect me to sit here while you feed me some bullshit lie that you are ‘in love’ with my daughter? You are not in love with her. You don’t even know what love is. If you seriously think I am going to let Y/N fall deeper into your clutches, then you got another thing coming.” He was snarling at this point.

“Dad, that is enough!” You go to stand and face him, but Ransom puts his hand on yours which causes you to falter and stay in your seat.

“Whether or not she feels the same way I do, I will still support all of her decisions, as she is a grown woman fully capable of making clear levelheaded decisions.” Ransom knows he has to remind your father of that. As with most overprotective fathers, they do not see their children as adults, they see them still as young innocent children.

“Your grandfather Harlan would have _never_ let this happen.” Harry’s comment was cold and cut right to the bone. 

The snarl that curled on Ransom’s lip did not go unnoticed by Y/N and her father. “And what do you know about my grandfather?” He strains out through gritted teeth. There was one thing Ransom hated more than anything, and that was being compared to his grandfather.

“I met Harlan a few years ago when I came to visit Y/N. I met him in her bookshop, I knew who he was. I had heard the rumors from some of my fellow FBI agents who work on the East Coast. We had a private chat a few days later. I told him who I was and he told me who he was. I asked about his interest in my daughter and her business, he responded by telling me the truth. I asked him point blank if my daughter was in danger from him or his family and he assured me she wasn't. He told me Y/N was like a daughter to him and he would rather turn in his entire organization to the FBI than let any harm come to her.” Harry’s starting to fight dirty.

You knew your father and Harlan had met years ago; Harlan told you as much. What you didn't know was the conversation they had was about, all Harlan told you at the time was, “just a conversation between fathers.”

Ransom smirks, “well then, that is something my grandfather and I actually have in common. Look, I may not have had my choice in who I share blood with, but I do have a choice in who I want to be with. I want to be with Y/N.” Ransom reminds himself to stay calm and not fall prey to Harry’s mind games that he was obviously trying to play.

“I will never let that happen.” Harry’s hands slam onto the table, the force knocking over his wine glass, spilling it all over the table. In this instance, Mikhail, Nico, and Fran all come in the room to make sure everything was okay but were quickly waved off by Ransom. 

Ransom gives him a glare he only reserved for people he is about to kill, “you don’t get to make that decision. You may be Y/N’s father, but she doesn’t fucking belong to you.” Ransom’s voice had a vicious edge to it. He reached and grabbed his wine glass, downing it trying to drown the anger rising in his throat.

“You are nothing but poison. All of you mob bosses are just alike. You want the one thing you can’t have, and in this case, it's my daughter. You claim to love her, saying you will do anything to protect her and yet my daughter was in the hospital days ago. Harm has come to her under your ‘protection’ and who's to say how long that protection will last?” Harry comes to the head of the table and starts to invade Ransom’s space with an accusatory finger, “what happens when you get bored of my daughter? Good-looking mob boss like you doesn't want to settle down. You're young and got your whole life ahead of you. You aren't going to tether yourself, no, as soon as my daughter serves her purpose to you, you’ll move onto the next girl that catches your eye. What happens to my daughter’s happiness and safety then, huh? You don’t care about her, and you will leave her, it’s only a matter of time!” Harry’s voice is loud and angry.

Ransom stands quickly, and gets right in Harry’s face, “like when you left her?” There is electricity sparking between their gazes, “you think I would leave her like you did when she was just a kid, huh? What kind of parent leaves their child like that? How can you claim to have her best interest at heart when you did that?”

Harry hit below the belt with his comments, but so did Ransom. The next thing he knew, Harry’s fist was connecting with his face. Ransom fell to the side slightly, but he caught himself on his chair. He wipes his mouth where he feels his teeth cut his lip upon contact. Ransom stands tall, spitting out the blood in his mouth onto Harry’s shoes. 

You stand up quickly, shocked by your father's cheap shot at Ransom. “Enough!” You shout at them. This is getting completely out of hand and you’re tired of this dick measuring contest.

Nico and Mikhail were back in the dining room, hands in their jackets, ready to pull their weapons. They watched intently as Ransom squared up against Harry, his voice low and threatening, “I’m only going to say this once: _I’m not you_. The only way I would ever leave her is if she wanted me to. There has been no one else since the moment I met her and there won’t be anyone else. Y/N is the only woman for me. If you have a problem with that then you can go fuck yourself, sir.” Ransom’s blood was thrumming. He was high on adrenaline and he desperately wanted you in his arms.

Dare you say it? You look at Ransom and your father, both of them at each other’s throats. You had to stop this, stop the madness.

“Hugh!” You shout at the top of your lungs.

Ransom looks at you. No one has dared to call him by his first name in years but hearing it from your mouth calms the anger inside of him. He walks over to you and reaches out to touch your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“May we talk? Privately.”

Ransom nods, grabs your hand, and pulls you away from the dinner table past Nico and Mikhail, down the hall and into the office. 

Harry stands there in utter shock. Did you seriously choose to address concern with Ransom over your own father? You didn’t even spare your father a momentary glance to see if he was okay. Your only focus was on the despicable mob boss. 

*

Ransom closes the door to the office quietly.

“Both of you were completely out of line, I know you both want what’s best for me but--”

Ransom captures your mouth and kisses you deeply. He cups your cheek as his other hand snakes around your body and pulls you close. He takes in your soft lips before he runs his tongue against them, coaxing you to let him in. Once you do he runs his hand down your back and pulls you up against him more urgently. 

You pull away breathless and look at Ransom. There’s a taste of Ransom’s blood in your mouth from the kiss. The coppery taste is almost sweet on your tongue. Your heart soaring because his lips were finally against yours.

“I’m going to let you know, if your father wasn’t here, I’d be taking you right here in this office,” Ransom presses his forehead against yours, “I have to restrain myself just from doing that with him here.”

“Ransom,” you pant.

He sweeps his thumb over your swollen lips, “I wish my father was like yours. Protective, fierce, ready to kill at a moment’s notice for his child. You are a lucky girl.”

“I’m the only blood he has left. I’m the only family,” you pause, “well he does have my stepmom and her two sons, but I’m the only blood family he’s got,” you smile, remembering what he was like with a couple of your high school boyfriends, “he’s always been protective of me even when I dated in high school.” 

“I get that, I do. However, he needs to realize I am not going away. He needs to come to terms with that. I was dead serious when I said I loved you. I do. You are all I think about. You are all I care about, Y/N. Only you.” His hands caress your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that escape your eyes, “hey now, don't cry.”

“This whole evening has just been so overwhelming. I’m sorry my father hit you.” You give him a soft frown. You can’t believe how your father had acted.

Ransom smiles as his thumb smooths over your pouting bottom lip, “it’s alright. Nothing can hurt me as long as I have you.” 

You find yourself blushing at his words again, while your mouth quickly brought the thumb on your lower lip between your teeth. You are still in a haze from the kiss, and now that you had your lips finally against his, you want more.

You are about to pull him in for another kiss when you hear shouting outside the office door.

“Y/N! I am leaving!” Your father shouts as he rips his jacket out of the closet.

You quickly open the office door and run into the foyer where you are met with the distraught and angry gaze of your father, “I’m leaving. I can’t believe you. You would choose him--” Harry points to Ransom who is standing on the threshold of his office, “over your own father? I am so disappointed in you. I thought I raised you better.” He’s about out the door when an angelic voice whispers in his head: _but isn’t that what happened in the past?_ _I chose_ you _over my father._ Harry releases a heavy sigh and shakes his head. He doesn't have time for your mother’s mind games. He continues out the door, towards the SUV.

You feel like a bucket of cold water was just dumped on you. The air in your lungs is gone. The fire that was coursing through your veins only moments ago had become thick sheets of ice. You fall to the floor in shock but are caught in Ransom’s arms. 

Mikhail, who is unsure of what to do, looks at Ransom. “Take him back to my house then come back here.” Mikhail nods and follows your father out the door.

Nico and Fran are standing there, wide eyed at the events that just happened. This was not the way they foresaw this evening going. 

Ransom helps you up and escorts you into the office. He has you sit in one of the wide comfy chairs across from the desk and in the small glow of the fireplace. He cups your cheeks and wipes away at the steady stream of tears flowing down your cheeks.

Fran quietly enters minutes later with a teacup and saucer. You take it from her hands and smile weakly, “thank you Fran.”

“You’re welcome,” her eyes move between you and Ransom. She knows he’s partially to blame for the fallout. She looks directly at you, “I’ll be around if you need me.”

You nod your head and take a sip of the warm liquid. It does nothing to soothe you, only increases the hunger you have for actual substance.

“Fran, could you please bring us a couple of plates of food?” Ransom inquires as his eyes roam over you.

“Certainly, mister Drysdale,” Fran responds before departing the office.

Seconds pass by in silence as Ransom leans against the desk. He’s unsure of what to say. His father and him had gotten into plenty of shouting matches, eventually letting things roll over. The fight was forgotten but not the words. His father’s words, along with Harlan’s, stung him and he carried those words with him every day of his life. Ransom knows the words just spewed out by your father had to have stung and will surely not be soon forgotten.

“The first huge argument my father and I had was during winter break my junior year of high school,” you utter, “he wanted to know where I was going to college, citing I only had a year and a half to decide. I told him I wanted the East Coast, something far from the sands of Nevada. I proceeded to tell him I had my sights set on Harvard, and boy, did he let it all go. He was a fuse that wouldn’t stop going on and on about the underworld of the mafia in Massachusetts,” you take another sip, “I reminded him then like I did a couple of days ago, he taught my stepbrothers and I how to stand up for ourselves,” you finish the last bit of tea when Fran walks in with a rolling cart of two plates of food and glasses of water.

“Thank you, Fran,” Ransom whispers.

“You’re welcome, mister Drysdale,” she looks at you and raises a brow. She sees you give a slight nod, indicating you’re okay. Fran takes the empty teacup and saucer from you, “Y/N.”

Ransom waits till Fran is out of the office to take a seat across from you in the other chair. His eyes roaming over your body as he takes in your beautiful features which are enhanced by the glow of the fire.

You feel a few more tears as you press on, “then our second huge argument occurred a month after my college graduation when I returned home to tell him I wasn't moving back to Vegas. I was remaining in Boston. He didn't speak to me for weeks until Rose, my stepmom, dragged him out here to see I was a grown woman capable of living on my own, even though I had Nora,” you wipe at your eyes and Ransom’s right there, holding out a Kleenex. You smile, “thanks.”

Ransom nods, remains quiet. He knows it’s not time to speak but listen.

“He knew I wanted to open my bookshop, my dream. Which he persistently told me to do, encouraging me every step of the way. When I told him I was opening it in Weston, his anger boiled again, warning me at every step to watch out for myself and watch out for the Thrombeys because they ruled the town,” you reach for a glass of water, gulp most of it down. Your throat’s parched from talking. You place the glass back down and smile, “then Harlan walked in, I had no idea who he was until he told me his name. I knew the moment would come, when he walked into my bookshop, asking for payment. I had been warned to give in, but I knew I wasn't going to just give in,” you move your eyes to Ransom, “I wasn't going to let Harlan Thrombey take away my dream. I stood up to him, no one had ever done such a thing to him, which he admitted to me a year or so later. We became friends. Books were our passion, along with Harlan divulging family gossip and such, I was the only person not involved in any Thrombey family dynamics or politics,” you stand up and straighten your clothes, “I had to tell him what my father did. I was a nervous nelly when the words tumbled out my mouth. I panicked and left the attic study in a rush, but he came right after me and told me not to worry, he’d keep my secret. We had trust in our friendship. Enormous amounts of trust,” you breathe in and out. You aren't going to tell Ransom about the ammunition you have in your arsenal. Besides, he doesn't need to know what Harlan bequeathed you when he passed away. You had stored it all under lock and key, somewhere safe. 

You walk over to Ransom, reach down and cup his cheek, stroke his skin, “he talked about you. He knew you would take over when he passed on or retired. I knew I’d have to stand up to you when you walked into my bookshop. Harlan told me as much, and I knew as much too,” you sit in Ransom’s lap and his arms wrap around you tightly. You pull his face towards you and look into his ocean blue eyes, “Harlan also told me to take a chance on you, for him,” you sweep your thumb over his lips, “so understand this, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, I am taking that chance and I swear to god if you fuck it up anymore, I am gone. Do you understand me?”

Ransom brushes his mouth against yours, “I understand, my queen.”

You raise a brow at the pet name, “Ransom.”

Ransom looks at you, “you are mine Y/N. As long as you are beside me and no matter how long that may be, you are my queen,” Ransom smiles, “you’ll be the only one, will ever be the only one.”

Ransom presses his lips against your forehead as you rest your head against his shoulder. He waits several beats before admitting, “I’ve never had a good relationship with my father. However, with Harlan, he taught me to be my own man, whereas my father didn't. Harlan reminded me there are good people in the world, there are healthy relationships worth fighting for. My father uses and abuses others because of what comes from being with my mother. My parents don't have a healthy relationship,” Ransom snorts, “hell, they don't even have a healthy marriage. And of course, Harlan told me stories about him and his wife, my grandmother. They were happy, in love,” Ransom reaches up and strokes your cheek with a thumb, “he knew someone that reminded him of my grandmother and now I know Harlan was referring to you. And after meeting you, I sure as hell, would've loved to have met her.” Ransom chuckles, “I think if I had met her and seen my grandparents’ marriage, I wouldn't have turned my heart into a fortress,” Ransom sighs happily, “but with you, it came crumbling down. With you, I know I can face anything and anyone, especially my family.”

You’re quiet as you soak in his words. You slowly realize Ransom Drysdale is revealing himself to you. You know it's your turn to listen and not speak. 

“If I had a constant father figure, I wouldn't have become a spoiled rotten ass. If Richard had shown more concern with me like Harry does with you, I wouldn't have made some of the life choices I’ve made,” Ransom pauses. “My father and I have had our fair share of fights, more than enough to last a lifetime, and I’m positive there will be more, but I know with you and Harry, regardless of what happens, your father will always be there for you. He lives with regret of already leaving you once before and no matter what happens, no matter what you decide, I think he won't leave you again and your stepmother sure as hell won't let Harry abandon you again. You are his daughter, and I know he’ll be there for you.” Ransom cups your cheek then slips a finger under your chin, so he may look you in the eyes, “and if that means you returning to Vegas until I figure out who did this, then so be it.”

“Ransom?” You inquire, then shake your head, “I’m not leaving,” you place a finger against his lips, “and I don't care if you say you’re going to send Nico with me! I’m not leaving!” You press on, “I can’t be states away from you when I, I,” _don’t know how I feel about you._ You move that thought aside by stating, “don’t order me to go either.”

“I would never order you to do anything Y/N,” Ransom whispers, “I think it’s just the best option--”

“I’m not leaving Hugh Drysdale!”

Ransom grins again as you say his first name. He enjoys hearing it come from your mouth. “Yes, my queen.”

“Good,” you retort as you look into his ocean blue eyes, “we’re in this together.”

“Yes, we are,” Ransom places a chaste kiss to your lips as you both cuddle into one another. The only sound you two can hear is the crackling fire and the soft ticking of Harlan’s old clock on the wall.

Unknown to either of you are the rhythmic melodies of your hearts slowly syncing together as one force. Creating a connection between the two of you as destiny has placed you in each other’s lives for a reason.

*

An hour later after you and Ransom ate your cold dinner inside the office next to the fireplace, Ransom walks you out into the chilly night. Mikhail and Nico are waiting next to the SUV.

Ransom captures your mouth and cups your cheek, kissing you deeply. Minutes later he pulls away, knowing he must let you go as well as knowing he’ll never get enough.

“Goodnight Ransom,” you breathlessly whisper.

“Goodnight,” Ransom murmurs in return, “let me know how it goes with your father.”

“I will,” you remark, knowing you’ll have to soothe the man with kind words and reassurance for the rest of the foreseeable future.

Nico opens the backdoor for you. He closes it as Mikhail hops into the driver’s seat. Seconds later the three of you are heading towards Ransom’s personal house and in the silence and darkness of the backseat your mind begins mulling over how you truly feel about the one and only Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> campo di battaglia - battlefield
> 
> terra di nessuno - no man's land
> 
> mia regina - my queen


	7. violazione

  


_The fireplace crackles as Ransom pulls her into his arms. He’s glad they decided to stay in, instead of heading out. The weatherman predicted only five inches of snow and now it's closing in on ten._

_“We’re going to have a white Christmas,” she remarks, as she rests her head against him, “it's going to be really beautiful.”_

_Ransom kisses her neck tenderly as he moves a hand down her side, “It’s not the only thing.”_

_She giggles. He thinks it’s the sweetest sound ever. “Hugh.”_

_Ransom moans at her saying his first name. “Only you can call me by that name.”_

_She hums as he moves his mouth down her shoulder. The sensation of his trimmed winter beard sends goosebumps across her flesh. She arches her back as he finds the sweet spot at the base of her neck again._

_“Please,” she whispers, “I need you.”_

_“I want to take my time,” Ransom teases as he snakes a hand under her negligee._

_“Hugh,” she lowly moans as his hand moves up and cups her breast, “please. I can't wait.”_

_Ransom moves his other hand under the sheer fabric and cups her other breast. His thumbs flick her nipples, causing her to moan once again. He knows she wants more._

_She slips from his arms and turns to face him. Her mouth crashes against his as her hands travel over his shirtless chest and pushes him slowly back against the faux fur rug in front of the fireplace._

_Y/N straddles his body then pulls away to look down at him._

_He smiles up at her. He loves it when she takes control. He keeps his blue eyes on her as she yanks her negligee off. His hands roam over her warm flesh and cup her breasts. Ransom sits up and flicks his tongue over one nipple then the other._

_She grinds against him as her hands fly to his head. Her fingers moving through his hair. “Hugh,” she purrs._

_“Y/N, my queen, my everything,” Ransom punctuates each name with a kiss down the valley between her breasts before he reaches up to cup her face, bringing her mouth down to his. He kisses her deeply then pulls away breathlessly._

_She looks down into his ocean blue eyes and smiles. Ransom sees the love in her eyes she has for him. They’ve come so far from the first day he walked into her bookshop months ago._

_She roams a hand over his chest and palms his hard cock over his jeans. She grins as she pushes Ransom back down and nips at his neck. “I want what is mine.”_

_“Take me, I’m all yours,” Ransom growls as she begins to leave a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach. He feels her hands undoing his pants, feels one hand reaching in and grabs his hard cock._

_She kneels between his open legs as she pushes his jeans down over his hips, exposing his cock. Within seconds her mouth is engulfing his cock and her tongue is swirling around the tip._

_Ransom sucks in a breath as his hands card themselves through her hair. Her mouth is soft and warm around his cock but he can't wait to be buried deep within her slick walls as she rides him._

_“Y/N,” Ransom pants as his orgasm simmers within him, “mmm--yes--”_

_She moves her head up and down his cock, lathering him with her saliva. She swirls her tongue around the tip, teasing him and tasting his juices. She feels his fingers tighten against her scalp as his orgasm rises rapidly._

_“Ride me Y/N,” Ransom pants as he gently grinds against your mouth, “I need to be inside you. Now.”_

_Ransom sees her give a devilish grin as she releases his cock from her mouth. She crawls up his body and straddles him, reaching back towards his cock. Ransom keeps his eyes on his hardened cock as she sinks slowly onto it._

_“Fuck, yes!” Ransom hisses as he feels her slick walls around him._

_He places his hands on her hips as she begins riding him slowly. Her hands splayed on his chest, her fingers finding refuge by digging into his skin. Ransom takes her all in as he thrusts up to meet the rolling of her hips._

_“Oh--Hugh,” she gasps as her fingernails dig in deeper._

_Ransom doesn’t mind her marks in his skin. He belongs to her, no other woman. This woman with her tilted head to the side and arched back, her teeth biting at her bottom lip. This beautiful woman riding him is his, and his alone._

_“Come for me my queen,” Ransom growls as his own hands grasp her hips tightly as he thrusts more roughly up into her, “come for me.”_

_Ransom feels her slick walls vibrating around his cock. At the sensation of feeling her climax against him, Ransom moans loudly, “Y/N!” He thrusts up once more, making sure he’s buried deep as he empties himself inside of her._

_Seconds after coming down from the high, she falls on top of Ransom’s chest. Ransom wraps his arms around her, holding her tight against him. He doesn't want to let go, never will let go._

_He skims a finger down her spine as he whispers, “Marry me?”_

Ransom wakes with a startled gasp. His cock’s already hard and the ache building inside of him needs to be released. He’s enthralled by her, utterly consumed by everything she is. He had his first taste of her tonight and he couldn't get enough. He wanted more; he needed more.

_Marry me_ . The phrase lingers in his mind as he lies back against the headboard. He never thought marriage was possible for him. Due to the trainwreck that was his parents' marriage he was forced to grow up in, it was always something that seemed unreachable to him but with her it could be . With her by his side, he could take on anything - the world, his family, her father. She would be his ally, his _only_ ally within this god forsaken kingdom. And in return, he would be her ally. Fair is fair in the game of love. 

Ransom reaches under the sheet and begins to stroke his aching cock as he remembers her pillowy soft lips against his. How they parted for him so he could explore more. He remembers one of her hands traveling up his arm and the other on his side. He had felt her fingers grasping onto him, it felt like she didn't want to let go either.

He thinks about her sleeping in his bed, inside his house. He thinks, _is she able to smell me on my sheets? Does it turn her on? Would she be touching herself in my bed? Or maybe, she touches herself in the shower?_

He had professed his love for her and he hadn't even been with her in the most intimate way two people could be together. He was ready to lay his life down and risk it all for her, but he felt she wasn't ready to do the same. He knew he had a long road ahead of him to prove himself to her. He had to find out who did this to her because if he didn’t, he knew he would lose her, and that could _never_ happen. 

Ransom grunts loudly as he climaxes, ropes of hot liquid cover his hand and belly. The high from the orgasm keeps his body on fire as he thinks about her riding him, her fingernails digging into his skin, marking him. _She is_ the only woman for him. 

“Y/N,” Ransom moans as he closes his eyes and lets sleep pull him under.

\-------

Nora pours herself a cup of coffee as she hears Harry walk into the kitchen. She could tell something was amiss last night when Harry came back to the house alone. He had looked pissed off and mumbled his response of ‘with that no good son of a bitch’ when she had asked him where Y/N was. Nora knew not to press any further when Harry was angry, so she dropped the subject.

When she watched Y/N walk in the door with Nico two hours later, and Nora had seen the distraught look and slight redness in her eyes, her suspicions were confirmed. She had wanted to press about the events of the evening but didn’t ask when you had only whispered, “I’m going to bed.”

Nora’s mind raced with worry and questions. She knew they had gone to Thrombey Manor to have dinner with Ransom. Nora knew the night wasn’t going to go well. Placing Ransom Drysdale, mob boss, in a room with Harry Y/L/N, FBI agent, was a horrible idea and gauging from both Harry and Y/N’s moods when they returned, the night did not go as planned.

Judging by the sour look donning Harry’s features as he enters the kitchen, it seems sleep did not come easy, if at all, for the angry father last night. Nora isn’t exactly sure how this early morning conversation is going to go but she decides to go for it. “Good morning, Harry,” Nora utters as she takes a sip of the hot caffeinated liquid she uses as fuel. 

“Morning Nora,” Harry’s voice is curt and clipped with anger. He pours himself a cup of coffee as well and takes a sip.

“Still leaving today?” She gently inquires, trying not to sound as if she is prying.

“I am,” Harry rests against the kitchen island. He hasn’t talked much to Nora regarding Ransom Drysdale. Harry sneers at the thought of his name. “Nora?”

“Yes?” Nora hums, turning herself towards Harry, giving him her full attention.

“What’s your perception of Ransom Drysdale?”

Nora snorts adding a distasteful eye-roll before she answers, “I went to high school with him. He was your run-of-the-mill rich kid. Although he was more of a troublemaker and a douchebag. The smart ones in school knew to avoid him. The others, though, well they just fell right in, went along with his lifestyle and all the trouble that came with it.”

“Guessing you didn’t run with his crowd?”

Nora shakes her head, “I did not.”

“And now, what's your impression?”

“I still think he's trouble because of his lifestyle but,” Nora pauses, “ever since Y/N walked into his life I can tell he’s changed. Well, trying to change for the better.” Nora glances over at Harry, “Did she tell you he sent bouquets of flowers to her shop for three weeks? Every day the shop was open, a bouquet of flowers was delivered to her.”

Harry shakes his head, takes a sip. “She did not.”

Nora smiles, “I think there’s some good in him, and with her in his life, he’s trying his damnedest to be a good man. He showed up at the hospital the night of the fire. I saw the concern on his face, heard the worry in his voice,” she walks over to Harry, “he even admitted he cared for her. When he said he did, I didn’t want to believe him, but I heard the genuine sincerity in his voice when he said he cared for her and she’s the _only_ person he truly cares for.”

“And what do you think of all this protection?” Harry gestures around, referring to the house and the men outside guarding the place.

Nora shrugs, “To the average person, like me, it seems a little too much but he wants to protect her. I honestly think he’d scorch the very earth we stand on if something ever happened to her. I also think he’d die for her if it meant she was alive and happy, and safe.”

“She’s lucky to have you as her best friend,” Harry remarks.

Nora smiles, “And she’s lucky to have you as her father.” Nora reaches out and pats the top of Harry’s hand when she sees you walking towards the kitchen, “it was good to see you again. Don’t be a stranger,” Nora walks away from Harry and towards her room.

Harry smiles weakly, “Good to see you too.” Harry turns around and lets his tired eyes sweep over you. He had a restless night, barely any sleep had come because his mind was racked with his daughter and the mob boss. He had thought of ways to force you to come out to Vegas, return home and live in the same city as Rose and him. You’d even be in the same time zone as your step brothers.

You walk into the kitchen and glance at your father. “Restless night?”

“I want you to come home!” Harry grounds out.

“I’m staying dad,” you retort as you pour a cup of coffee.

“Tell me, why do you want to stay?” Harry questions as he gives you a once over. You’re his baby girl. He doesn’t want to lose you, doesn’t want the next call he receives to be one informing him you are missing, or worse, dead.

“Why do you need a reason?” You inquire as you take a sip of coffee. “I’m a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions.”

Harry leans back against the counter, “You want to stay because of _him_ , don’t you?” Harry presses on when you don’t answer, “If he wasn’t involved in any way, shape, or form, when all this happened, I bet you’d be on the plane with me, heading back to Vegas.”

“Maybe you are right, dad. However, that's not how this situation has worked out. This is my home now and I won't let someone scare me into leaving. Besides I am needed here, I have people I need to look out for and take care of.” You rest your forearms on the cold countertop. It is a welcome relief to your skin that has become heated due to the frustration this conversation with your father is causing.

“That is a load of bullshit, Y/N! You want to stay because of him. He is nothing but a monster, sweetie. You need to see him the way everyone else does.”

You push up from the counter, something in you snapped when your father called Ransom a monster, “Ransom is human dad! Is he perfect? Absolutely not. But what you fail to see is, he is trying to be a better person, for me. He admires you for taking a stand against him for my sake! He acknowledges I am your daughter and you want me safe! He has never laid a hand on me! He’s defended my honor, and has killed a man because that specific man touched me without my consent! He may be ruthless and an asshole, but when it comes to me he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure I am safe. Ransom is willing to show me he has a heart and cares.” You argue in return.

Harry averts his gaze, purses his lips. “He killed someone?”

“Yes,” you respond sharply. “You know what he does, who he is. You know he can do what he pleases and get away with it.”

Harry knows, without a doubt, Ransom has killed people in cold blood. All mob bosses pull the trigger without hesitation. He’d been on several cases back in Vegas involving the mafia and found the dead bodies piled up. He’s seen firsthand watching the mob boss pull the trigger as well. And here is his daughter, getting involved with a mob boss. “I knew I should’ve never let you come out here!” Harry yells, slamming his fist on the counter causing some of the coffee in his cup to spill out onto the countertop. Seeing the mess, he pinches the bridge of his nose before he then remarks, “What happens when the rest of his family finds out about what I do? You won’t be safe then.”

“He told you last night, he’d rather turn them all in, in order to protect me and to keep me safe.” You shake your head, realizing this conversation is going to only get worse.

Harry motions a circle with his hand. “It could just as easily get out to other mafia families I am law enforcement! Mafia families will not accept you because of your father’s profession Y/N! They will hunt you down and kill you, and more than likely kill Ransom too because he was involved with a federal agent’s daughter. They will make it known to everyone he can never be trusted again!” Harry points at you, “Which could lead to the two of you going into witness protection!”

“So?” You shout at him, “At least I’d have him!” _Wait a second, back up. Are you admitting you care for Ransom?_ You two would spend the rest of your days in some back wood town with new identities and never see your family again. Never see Nora again. You’d have each other and it seems, that’s all that mattered to you.

You picture the scenario in your head: _Ransom with a full grown beard coming home in a suit, him finding you in the kitchen cooking dinner, a scruffy yet fluffy dog perched on a dog bed. You and Ransom going at it like teenagers every chance you get because you can’t get enough of one another. Simple wedding bands on both his and yours fourth left fingers. Maybe the pitter patter of little feet because you two want to pass on the love you have for one another to a child. Secretive visits from Nora and your family, even though it was forbidden to do so, but you knew your father would find a way to see you and make sure Nora could see you too._

Harry glances at you after minutes of silence, “So there is something between you and Ransom? Because last night it seemed one sided, and it was all coming from him.”

You still didn’t know how you felt about him yet you had just pictured being with him because you did grow to love him. There was no one else trying to break through your scenario, no one else you wanted to be with for the rest of your life. No one else you wanted to come home to at the end of the day and wrap you in their arms then make love while dinner’s burning on the stove. No one except Ransom.

“Y/N?” Harry inquires softly.

“I,” you begin. You wait several beats before continuing, “I don’t know how I feel about him. I just know if I leave now, I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

“And that’s why you want to stay?”

You nod your head, “Yes.” You look away and then back at your dad, “Ransom even suggested I go back home, and I told him I couldn’t. I didn’t admit to him I don’t know how I feel. I just,” you stutter, “I just, I can’t be states away knowing he’s here alone trying to figure out what happened. I _need_ to be here, I _want_ to be here.”

_Love knows no bounds_ , Harry thinks as he walks over and embraces you. “If that’s what you want then so be it.” He pulls back and cups your cheek, “But I need you to know, if I get another call and your well-being is in danger, I will not hold back. _He will_ end up in the hospital from the pain and wrath I will bring upon him. Understood?”

You smile weakly, “Yes dad. I understand.”

Harry places a kiss on your forehead, “And I swear to God, if that boy breaks your heart I will make sure he is six feet under.”

“Dad!”

“You’re still my daughter sweetie. He still needs to prove himself worthy _of_ you. To me, and to you as well. Don’t give into him so quickly, know what you feel before you take the leap and commit yourself as being Ransom’s other half.” Harry looks at you and smiles. He sees your mother in your features. Harry wonders what you’d think of her past, but this isn’t the time to divulge that particular information.

“I am taking my time dad. He’s been sending flowers for the past three weeks and I haven't given in.” Your feelings hadn’t (though they were on the verge of it), but your body sure had.

“Good. Make him earn you. Make him see you are worth more than anything else in this world.” Harry remarks, “Now let me finish packing, and you and your personal bodyguard may escort me to the airport.”

\-------

A couple days later, you find yourself in the middle of a baking spree. Unfortunately when your anxiety tended to run off the rails, baking was your only comfort but fortunately for Nico, your willing guinea pig, he always had a sweet tooth. You had to do something to occupy yourself, you can't sit and stare at four walls endlessly. You are in the kitchen, pulling out different ingredients while Nico sits at the island bartop with his self-made scorecard on a notepad in front of him. He’s made a list of everything you’ve made within the last twenty-four hours which featured two columns, one with a thumbs up and the other with a thumbs down.

“You’ve made six sweet treats so far Y/N,” Nico remarks. “What’s going to be lucky number seven?”

“I don’t know,” you huff as you look through a recipe book. “Is there something you want to try? Like you’ve always wondered about a particular sweet but never had it?”

Nico laughs. “Um, let me think,” his eyes glance down at the scorecard, “we’ve done chocolate chip cookies, Mississippi mud cake, caramel apple cupcakes, cinnamon twirl cookies, layered turtle cheesecake, and Hummingbird cake.” Nico thinks for a minute, “I haven't had pecan meltaways in years. My grandmother used to make them all the time for Christmas then she passed away. I’d love to have those again.”

You smile at Nico, “I’m sure I can find a recipe.”

You begin flipping through the cookbook, something you had brought with you from your apartment. It had family recipes from your grandmother, even some from your mom. You knew you’d have tons of free time therefore willing yourself to cook more.

You try not to think of what’s going on currently - the burned down bookstore, talking with the insurance company about a payout. The store had been fully paid off within three years of opening it, thanks to Harlan he had gifted the bookstore to you in your name for your birthday one year.

_Harlan had slid over an envelope to you, one night at Thrombey Manor. One of the rare occasions you had been in the house outside of your weekly afternoon visits._

_“What is this?”_

_“Open it. See for yourself.” Harlan had responded._

_You had taken the envelope and opened it. You gasped when you saw what he had done. “Harlan, this,” you had stammered, “you didn't have to do this.”_

_Harlan had shrugged, taken a sip of wine. “You’re like a daughter to me Y/N. I wanted to give you your dream. It fully belongs to you. Only you. Not the bank and you. Just you.”_

_You had felt the tears escape, “This is amazing. Thank you.”_

_Harlan had grinned, “You’re welcome.”_

You now think about fire chief Kinzel telling you the fire was arson. Which meant it was intentionally set and someone was trying to send a message but you had no idea who. You were still having trouble remembering the details of the event. Everything was still fuzzy.

“You find anything?” Nico inquires, bringing your focus back to finding a recipe.

You smile, “I did. Looks like my grandmother made them too.” You set the book down and begin gathering up the supplies you need to start making the covered powdered sugar treats.

*

Ransom parks his Beamer outside of his personal house. He nods towards the men who are standing guard outside as he walks into the front door. Once inside he hears laughter coming from the kitchen. He makes his way towards the sound and his eyes land on you and Nico rolling cookie dough.

Ransom shrugs off his jacket and smiles, “May I join in on the fun?”

You and Nico look up. You smile widely, “As long as you don't mind getting flour on your clothes.”

Ransom rolls up his sleeves, “I don't mind at all.”

Nico takes this opportunity to excuse himself to check the perimeter and check in with the guards outside. He knows Ransom would prefer to do the baking with you, and you alone. 

You and Ransom roll the dough into one inch balls and place them on a cookie sheet. Ransom places the tray in the oven then proceeds to help you roll more cookie dough into balls and place them on another cookie sheet.

“How have you been?” Ransom questions as he finishes placing a rolled up cookie dough ball on the cookie sheet.

“Good,” you reply nonchalantly as you begin placing dirty dishes into the sink.

Ransom walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

You turn around in his arms and look into his ocean blue eyes, “Fire chief Kinzel says the bookshop was officially ruled as arson. I don’t understand any of this Ransom. I mean, someone intentionally tried to kill me!” You feel the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes which causes you to pause, “And everything is still fuzzy. It’s almost as if someone drugged me beforehand to make sure I died in that fire.”

Ransom moves his arms and cups your cheeks, “Hey, you are alive. You are safe. You are with me,” his thumbs wipe away at your tears which finally spilled over, “I said nothing will happen to you under my protection. I promise nothing will happen to you.”

“But what if they are after you?” You sniffle as tears keep flowing out, “I, uh, I…” _can’t lose you_. You don't have the courage to say those words aloud yet you feel them down in your gut.

“I am right here Y/N,” Ransom brushes his mouth against yours, “okay? I am right here. If someone is after me, then I will take care of it. Don’t worry because as long as you are in my life I promise you, you will not lose me and I will come home to you. You will never have to receive the devastating news about my death.”

You nod your head as you wrap your arms around Ransom and burrow yourself into him. You feel Ransom move his fingers through your hair then feel his hand move down your back. You soak him in as the kitchen begins to smell of pecans and cookies.

*

“You’ll meet with me?” Ransom inquires into his phone as he paces the master bedroom. His eyes roaming over the made bed. His mind begins to wonder about your body under his sheets.

On the other end of the phone Luca Ferretti smiles, “Of course I’ll meet with you Ransom. Come down to New York. I can throw you a dinner or a party, better yet a dinner party. Congratulating you on becoming boss of the Thrombey family.”

Ransom smirks. “I don't need anything fancy Luca.”

“What?” Luca questions. “No drugs, no girls?”

Ransom was done with all that. “None of it Luca. Promise me.”

Luca sighs, “You must tell me who she is Ransom. Because the Ransom Drysdale I know never turns down the chance to party when he comes down here.”

_She’s the woman I love, the woman I need to keep safe. The woman I want beside me. The woman I will do anything for._ Ransom smiles, “I’ll see you tomorrow Luca.”

“See you then. Addio Ransom.” Luca remarks before disconnecting the call. 

Ransom slides his phone into his pocket, walks over to the bed and sits down. He reaches down with a hand touching the bedding. He hardens as his mind wonders to the sex dream he had nights ago. He smiles as he recalls you being in his dreams the past two nights as well.

He needs you, wants you. He knows he’ll never have his fill of you. “Fuck,” Ransom hisses under his breath.

“Everything okay?” You inquire as you stand on the threshold and cross your arms.

Ransom shuffles on the bed. He doesn't want you to see he’s hard and ready to pounce on you. He wants to take you when you are ready to have him. “Everything is fine.”

You raise a brow but don't ask him what’s on his mind, instead you ask, “May I ask for a favor?”

Ransom laughs, “Anything.”

“Nora and I are meeting Marta for lunch. We want Fran to come as well.” You remark as you uncross your arms and walk into the bedroom. “It’s been a while since the four of us have gotten together.”

“Out of everything you could ask of me, you want me to release Fran for a day?”

“Yes,” you respond as you walk over to the bed. You place a finger under Ransom’s chin, “Do I need to persuade you?”

“Persuade me how?” He questions with a raised brow and a tease in his voice.

You straddle his lap, feel his hardness which causes you to raise a brow in return. You remain silent as you run a hand up over his stomach and chest. The fabric of the cable-knit sweater he’s wearing is soft. “Well, we haven’t-”

Ransom stops you by pressing his mouth against yours. He pulls you up against him. Minutes later he pulls faintly back and looks at you. “You can have whatever you want Y/N.” He cups your cheek then glides his thumb over your lips, “But our first time is not going to be the result from a game of persuasion.” _Because I want it to be special._

You gently push his hand away from your face while easing him back against the mattress. You crush your mouth against his as you grind against him. You feel his hands on your hips. At first they are light then you feel them dig into you. In a flash of a second, he rolls you onto your back and you are looking up into his piercing blue eyes. “Ransom,” you murmur as you lean up and press your lips against his neck.

Ransom closes his eyes. Here you are eager and ready for him but he wants to be a gentleman and take you out for dinner and dancing before he devours you. He feels if he takes you now, he’ll lose all control and ravish you savagely like a starving beast. “Y/N,” Ransom whispers as he cups your cheek, pulling you away from his neck. He looks into your eyes as he runs a finger down your cheek then across your jaw, “I have to go down to New York City, for a business meeting. I should only be gone a couple of days.”

Your eyes turn into slits as you look at him and ground out, “Way to change the subject, _Hugh_ .” You were becoming sexually frustrated; you _are_ sexually frustrated! You haven’t had sex in months. “Do you not want me?” Suddenly your voice is small as you try to hide your desperation to feel him inside of you.

Ransom frowns slightly and nods his head, “Of course, I do.” 

You slide your hand down over the fabric of his sweater. Your fingers fumble with the hem, raising it slightly. You then trace your fingers along the waistband of his pants. “Then please Ransom,” you plead through hooded eyes as you look into his blue eyes, “let me feel you.”

He presses his mouth against yours then dips down and presses his mouth against the pulse point of your neck. “You have no idea how badly I want you, need you. I am ravenous for you, and if I were to take you now, I wouldn't hold back.” Ransom cups your cheek, returns his gaze back to your face, “When I return I will take you somewhere special.”

You open your eyes wide and raise a brow, wondering what he meant by not holding himself back. You then smile and place your hand on top of his. “Somewhere special, huh?” You were trying to quell your aching libido and be respectful of Ransom’s decision but it was a hard fought battle. You needed him to touch, feel, and kiss you on other places of your body. 

“I want to wine and dine you. Show you an evening of magic, make it unforgettable.”

You have to admit this is a pleasant outcome, not one you expected but are happy with. Despite being absolutely desperate and ravenous for him, you are pleased he is trying to earn his way into your bed, “Fine but I have one request.” 

Ransom smirks. “Name it.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him back down. Your lips are millimeters from his. “I want you in that three piece charcoal suit again.”

“Your wish is my command.” Ransom’s eyes shine as he smiles at you.

You smile brightly, “Good. I _will_ have you when you return.” You skim your fingers along his flesh above the waistband of pants. You travel them around to his back. His skin is warm and taut against your fingers. You teasingly glide your lips over his then pull gently on his bottom lip with your teeth. You release his lip before softly informing him, “All of you, Ransom Drysdale.”

_Fuck me_ , Ransom thinks at your teasing. He cups your cheek, strokes your skin with his thumb, “You will have me, my queen. You will always have me. I am yours. Only yours Y/N. You have my heart, and soon enough, you will have me to your heart’s content, your body’s content. Anything you want from me, want to do to me. You can keep me under lock and key because there’s no one else in my life I will ever want, or ever need. You’re the air I need to breathe, you’re the water I need to survive. I know with you, I will have it all.”

_Ransom Drysdale. Soft_. How could this man be open and forthcoming with you? The mob boss and killer. And apparently he’s all yours. You feel him wipe at an escaping tear, “Make sure you come back to me Ransom. That’s all I ask. Please.”

Ransom smiles, presses his forehead against yours, “I’m taking a few of my men. I will make it back to you,” Ransom brushes his mouth against yours, “I promise.”

As Ransom pulls away, you pull his head back down and capture his mouth, kissing him deeply. You kiss him with passion, part of you knowing he will make it back to you, the other part fearful this could be the last time your eyes see him.

Minutes later the two of you break apart. Both of you breathless. 

Ransom removes himself from the bed. “I’ll be back before you know it. Like I was never gone in the first place,” Ransom utters as he pulls you forward and off the bed. He reaches over and runs a thumb over your swollen lips. “I love you.”

You still don't know how you feel towards him. You’re at a loss of words but you manage to murmur, “Please come home to me Ransom.”

The word _home_ doesn't escape Ransom’s ears as he takes one of your hands. He runs his thumb over the skin then kisses your wrist, “For you, I will.”

You watch as Ransom walks out the bedroom door. You hear him walk down the flight of stairs then hear the front door close. You walk over to the floor to ceiling windows and push aside the curtain, watching him walk towards his Beamer. A black SUV follows close behind him. Your heart racing as you fear for the worse yet hope for the best as well. You mentally begin counting down the minutes until you see him again. You were finally going to have Ransom Drysdale, a long awaited prize you desperately wanted to claim.

\-------

That evening, after Ransom had left, you and the ladies made the decision to unwind by heading downtown to visit one of the many clubs the city has to offer. Fran, Marta, and Nora suggest Elysium. You agree to the suggestion, plastering on a fake excited smile but your heart pounds, recalling the last time you had gone there with Ransom. 

_The memory flashes in your mind of the asshole that wouldn't take no for an answer. He had bought you a drink and while you had taken the drink out of kindness, your mouth never touched the glass, fearful for what could be in it. You had been kind but then he started touching you which made you feel uncomfortable then he had grasp your arm tightly and began dragging you off and that’s when your knight in shining armor had arrived._

Nico pulls the SUV up to the valet area of the club. You can hear the vibration of the music bouncing off the walls from inside the vehicle. The only thoughts in your head as you exit the car are of Ransom. Nico stands close, acting as a shield. “You okay?” Nico inquires with a soft voice. He knows what happened here and it makes him much more protective of you. He takes a moment to pull you to the side as Mikhail helps the other ladies out of the SUV, “Are you sure you want to be here?” He asks with concern in his eyes. He was trying to spare you of the unpleasant memories from weeks ago.

You slide your eyes over to Nico then back towards the tall overweight bouncer who lets the six of you walk right in, instead of waiting in line like the rest of the people standing by to get in. “I’m fine, I’ve got you to watch over me. Thanks for asking.” You offer him a reassuring smile. It was the truth, you did feel much safer knowing Nico was going to be by your side all night. 

Nico raises a brow yet remains silent, he’s not totally convinced but he follows behind you just the same. You’ve become like a sister to him over the last month. He doesn't like seeing you sad or angry. He wants to make sure you are happy and safe, no matter where you are whether it’s with your girlfriends, or with the boss.

Nico clears his throat, “If you wanna leave,” he touches your arm making sure only you can hear him, “let me know. I will drive you straight back to Ransom’s.”

You greatly appreciate the fact Nico is trying to give you an out, “Thank you Nico. I will keep that in mind. For now let’s just enjoy the evening.”

Mikhail approaches the two of you, “Let’s get the ladies upstairs to the VIP area.”

“We aren't VIPs Mikhail,” you announce, eyebrows raised.

Mikhail shrugs, “You are now. You’re with the boss now, ma’am. I informed the boss earlier of your evening plans and he called ahead to set up a table for you and your friends. He wanted to make sure you had a nice night out.” Mikhail looks you over, “He made sure to emphasize to me, we keep an eye on you at all times, or else.”

You look between Mikhail and Nico, “Or else, what?” You had an inkling what the answer was going to be.

“I certainly don’t intend to find out, miss Y/N.” Mikhail chuckles which breaks the tension of the prospect of Ransom’s threats.

Nora slides up to your side, wrapping her arms around you, “Come on gorgeous. Let’s go to the dance floor. I need you as my wingwoman, for I intend to get lucky tonight.”

“We have a table in the VIP section,” you mention as she begins pulling you away from Mikhail and Nico.

Nora looks at the men, “The table will still be there when we are done dancing, right boys?” Mikhail and Nico nod curtly. “Good,” Nora laughs then she tugs on you, “come on! Have some fun!”

*

Julian sits in his office, watching the security cameras. His eyes moving from one screen to the next. His adrenaline spikes the moment he spots her. _Ransom’s girl_. Julian can’t help but moan aloud when he sees her walking into the club. He notices she’s with three other ladies and two of Ransom’s men. Julian smirks as he recalls Ransom informing him he was going to be out of town for a couple of days.

_“Business down in New York City,” Ransom had remarked, “I’m sure you can handle things.”_

_Julian had grinned, “no worries Ransom. You have the family business to run. I most definitely can handle Elysium while you are away.”_

Julian’s pants tighten, his eyes are memorizing her shape on the screen; every curve of her body is committed to memory. It’s been months since their encounter in the bookstore and here she is, _without Ransom_ . It’s like the gods above are purposefully dangling her in front of him, like he's a starved lion and she is a delicious meal waiting to be eaten. _And oh how he would eat her_. His cock is throbbing in his pants. It’s screaming at him to be released. Julian knows full well he can't go parading around the club with a hard-on.

“Fuck,” Julian groans out as his fingers urgently get his pants undone. He pushes them down his hips, giving him enough room to take out his cock which he begins stroking as his eyes remain on her while his mind thinks of those plush lips sucking him off.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Julian gasps. He closes his eyes, remembering her name. “Y/N.” The nametag she wore that day accented her chest perfectly, his memory recalled with perfect clarity. He loved the way her name rolled off his tongue. He even repeated her name while telling her goodbye because he wanted to hear her name on his lips one more time. “Y/N,” he moans loudly as his orgasm rises.

He’s picturing her straddling him in the chair he’s sitting in. She’s lifting her dress up as she sinks slowly onto his cock then begins riding him slowly. Julian can only speculate how tight she is but it's enough to feed his fantasy. He imagines she would want to take her time and relish in the feeling of his cock but because he feels so good inside her she quickens as her own orgasm builds.

Julian’s orgasm crashes within him as he strokes himself rapidly. His labored breath fills the quiet room as ropes of hot liquid squirt out from the end of his cock. _I have to have her. I need to have her. I want her!_

Julian hurriedly cleans himself up and makes himself presentable the moment he sees the group head to the VIP section. This gave him the perfect opportunity to mingle and get his hands on her. He heads out of his office and into the VIP section of the club. He drinks in the vision of her as he draws closer to the table. _She will be mine. Fuck Ransom Drysdale._

*

You giggle as you take a sip of the drink you ordered. You knew the bartender wasn’t going to spike your drink with any poison since it was implied by your new VIP status you were with Ransom Drysdale.

You freeze. Did you just imply you and Ransom were an actual couple? You were still getting used to the notion. You had told him you were going to take a chance on him. You wanted to take that chance, you wanted to be with him. You had even told him before he left you wanted to be with him intimately and he didn't tell you no. He had informed you he wanted you the same way but with dinner involved. You smile to yourself, Ransom Drysdale wanted to feed you properly then devour you for dessert.

You inwardly moan as you take a sip of the alcohol. Damn him for leaving you hot and bothered. Now you couldn't wait until he returned.

“Ladies,” a smooth deep voice announces, “good evening. Welcome to Elysium.”

All of you stop laughing and talking to look at the man who walked up to the table. You raise a brow as you recognize him from a few months ago at the bookstore. His brown hair is slightly longer and light brown fuzz covers the bottom half of his face. You slide your eyes at the other ladies, notice Marta and Fran give each other a quick look then back at the gentleman.

He looks directly at you and smiles, not only with his lips but his blue eyes. He even makes a move to sit down next to you. Nico immediately moves forward, his hand grips Julian’s shoulder tightly, “You need to leave.” The man looks at Nico and waves the bodyguard off, “You should know I mean no harm.” He then looks at you, “We’ve met before. I’m Julian Grey. I’d like to thank you for your book recommendation.”

You smile politely, “You’re welcome.” 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He motions to the other ladies, “Enjoying a nice girls night out?”

“You could say that,” Fran responds dryly. Marta is quick to elbow her friend. “What?” She hisses out as she looks at Marta who just shakes her head.

Julian leans back against the booth. He waits several seconds before shifting his body so his front is against your side. He rests on one hand on your leg, while the other hand moves some hair away from your neck. He leans in and inhales your perfume, “I’d like to return the favor for your excellent recommendation.”

His closeness is sending goosebumps across your skin, and not the good kind. You push his hand off your leg and pull away under the guise of grabbing your drink. “I’m with someone.” Promptly informing him before you take a sip of your drink to settle your nerves.

Julian gives a frown as he makes a show of looking around the room, “I don't see him here with you. He shouldn't have let you out when there’s plenty of men who will snatch you up in a heartbeat.”

You feel bile and alcohol mixing in your stomach as it threatens to come up your throat. You shoot a pleading look over to Nico who is quick to intervene again, “I think it’s time you go, Grey.”

Julian looks and smiles at Nico, “Leave us alone.” He turns his attention back to you when he runs a finger along your jaw, “Maybe we should take this elsewhere?”

You swat his hand away from your face and Nico’s gun is pulled from his holster. He doesn’t give a shit if Julian is Ransom’s business partner. He is making you uncomfortable and was warned plenty of times to back off. Nico discreetly puts the muzzle of his gun against the back of Julian’s head. “Hands off the lady,” he growls into Julian’s ear.

“Mister Grey?” A small feminine voice interrupts from the front of the table breaking the extremely tense situation.

Julian huffs angrily, “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, but you’re needed at the bar downstairs.” The woman responds not noticing what was just happening moments before.

Julian glances back towards Nico who pulls the gun away from his head. He stands and straightens his clothes before he disappears from the table. All eyes on him as he walks down the stairs towards the first floor of the club.

After several beats, Nora is at your side, rubbing your arms trying to comfort you, “Well that was interesting.” She breaks the silence trying to ease the left over tension.

“Julian Grey is an absolute sleazeball. I heard he treats women like his own personal property,” Fran adds. “Don't think about him. Just, ugh, no.” Fran shivers, feeling chills. She quickly takes a drink, trying to warm herself back up, then she looks at Nico, “I think we should make a toast to the real hero here: Nico. Cheers to our brave defender.” Fran raises her glass causing the other girls to happily join in the toast, “TO NICO!” They shout. Nico remains stoic but the intense shade of pink on his face betrays him.

Nora quickly side eyes you after the toast, “Can we circle back for a moment to your previous comment, you’re ‘with someone’? Are you and Ransom official?”

Marta and Fran lean forward quizzically, both wondering what Ransom is to you as well.

You sigh heavily as you rub your temples. “I, uh, I don't know. Okay?” Did you really want to announce something to your friends that wasn't exactly official? The words boyfriend and girlfriend haven't been thrown out in any conversation. Just that you were his and you were going to take a chance on him. You recall him declaring ‘I am yours’ the day prior thus informing you, Ransom is yours. All yours. But you were still trying to figure out your own feelings for him.

“Honey,” Nora begins as she sees the lost and frustrated look on your face, “I didn't mean to upset you. I was asking a question. You obviously _feel_ something for him.”

You can’t help but let out a long heavy sigh. Your body slumps down into the chair dramatically, “I don’t know, you guys. There's _something_ between us. What exactly it is, I have no idea. I am still trying to figure it out.” You pull yourself up and down the rest of your drink. Alcohol is acting as a truth serum now, your lips are getting looser, “Am I attracted to Ransom? Yes. Do I want to fuck him? _Hell yes._ ”

The admission causes the girls to scream out and catcall you. “God be praised! She finally admits it!” Fran raises her hands to the sky. You are left laughing and shaking your head at your friend's reaction. “I’m sorry Y/N, but I’ve been rooting for the two of you to get together this whole time. Ever since you came into Ransom’s life, he has been in a better mood, been less of an asshole. It has made my life a whole lot easier.” Fran admits.

Something about her statement hit deep in your heart. While you knew what Ransom felt for you, you were unaware of the real life impact your relationship was having. To hear from an outside party your influence on Ransom and being in his life was changing him for the better, made something bloom in your soul.

Nora downed the rest of her drink, “I hate to admit it, but I agree with Fran. The way he acted when you were in the hospital and afterwards? That is not the guy I knew growing up. Who knew Ransom Drysdale could actually show genuine concern for another person aside from himself?”

You nod your head and shoot your friend a sly smile, “You make it sound as though you are beginning to accept him.”

Nora sighs and rolls her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, don’t read too much into it. He’s in your life and you told us both to get used to one another. So, here I am, trying to get used to him being in your life.”

“Thank you Nora,” you then look at the other ladies. Suddenly you feel tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry.” You quickly wipe them away with a wet chuckle. Your friends' words really touched you and made you feel more at ease in your decision to give Ransom a chance.

“No worries Y/N,” Marta responds as she gets up from her seat and gives you a hug, “we still love you.” Fran and Nora join in Marta’s hug. You let out a happy sound of awe because of the love your drunk friends are showing you.

The events of the evening have left you exhausted. All you were now wanting to do was go home and take a shower, crawl into bed, and call Ransom. After your confession, and your friends subsequent confessions, you were really missing Ransom. You needed to hear his voice. 

Your eyes search for Nico and he immediately knows you want to leave. You stand and look at the girls, “I’m going to go home. You ladies staying here?”

A beautiful woman sits down next to Nora. Nora’s eyes light up as she wraps her arm around the woman who joined them then winks at you, “I’m good.” Nora’s gaze is fixed on her new friend.

You smile and laugh at her then look at Fran and Marta. “And you two? I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

Marta and Fran nod their heads and smile at you. “Yes.” They say in unison. 

As you leave, you stop in front of Mikhail, “Keep them safe please.” You know he will regardless but you feel the need to say it. Mikhail smiles and nods, “Absolutely.” His assurance makes you feel better knowing your friends are watched over and will be safely escorted home.

Nico comes to your side, “Let’s get you home, shall we?” He gestures towards the door. He follows closely behind you but at the same time he also keeps an eye out for Julian, making sure he doesn't try to follow you out of the club.

*

The ride back to Ransom’s house is quiet. You can't stand the silence anymore so you ask Nico a question. One you’ve been curious to ask but never had the opportunity to.

“Nico, has Ransom ever done anything like this before for anyone else?” You pause. “The security, the personal house.”

Nico tightens his hands on the steering wheel and clears his throat, “He has not. Ransom has never gone to the lengths he has to make sure you are safe, for another person.” Nico wasn't going to lie to you. “You’re the first person and the only woman he has ever wanted to protect. He wants to make sure you are safe and happy. As long as I’ve known him, you’re the only person he has shown this much personal attention to; you are someone he genuinely cares about.”

You hum in response. This evening has been emotionally overwhelming and the alcohol buzzing through your system was not helping with your mental well-being. You rest your head against the window. The coolness against your skin offers a small respite against your heated flesh. Nico glances up to the rearview mirror, sees you looking out the window. “Y/N, are you alright?” 

“Yeah…” your response was low but Nico still heard you, “I’ll be okay once you get me home.”

*

Julian hurriedly makes his way back up the stairs and towards the table where Y/N was sitting at. He doesn't see her so he scans the rest of the VIP section, even makes his way towards the railing and looks down at the throng of people moving to the music. He can’t spot her. She’s nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” Julian hisses under his breath as he runs a hand through his hair. _Goddamn it! She’s to be mine!_

Minutes pass by before his eyes watch the ladies gather up their things and begin to walk towards him. He hears a couple of words thrown out, enough to make out they are going to be having lunch together tomorrow at Bostonia Public House.

Julian’s blood begins to hum. He ran all the scenarios in his head of how he could make Y/N his. Unfortunately each time, it ended with her out of his reach. If he can't have her, he might as well do Linda’s bidding. He pulls out his phone and dials the number to the man he’s hired. “Listen carefully. I know where she’s going to be. It’s time to do what you were hired to do.”

*

Nico listens to the shower start and pulls out his phone. He dials Ransom’s number as he makes his way downstairs.

“Nico. How did it go tonight? She okay?” Ransom asks. He tried to make her evening out with her friends as nice as possible while making sure she was safe.

“She’s fine, boss. We’re back home, but I need to tell you something.” Nico sighs, and looks up at the ceiling. He was not looking forward to this conversation.

“Out with it.” Ransom demands.

Nico rests against the kitchen island, “Julian took a shine to her at the club, he was hitting on her. He was touching her trying to feel her up.” Nico could hear Ransom growling but he continues, “I warned him, I told him to get his hands off her but he didn't listen. Y/N pushed him off, said she was with someone. Even after that, he put his hands on her trying to feel her up. I put my gun against the back of his head and warned him for the last time to get his hands off her, luckily for him though he got called away.”

Silence greets Nico’s ear. He has no idea what Ransom was thinking or planning. Nico had to let Ransom know what Julian had done. He had no idea if she was going to tell him about the encounter so Nico had to inform him of it. Nico knew the two men were friends and business partners, but he also knew Julian crossed the line in a big way tonight. “Boss?” Nico presses.

“Thank you Nico. I appreciate you telling me.” Ransom grounds out.

“Welcome.” Nico murmurs before he hears the noise of the call being disconnected. _Fuck_ , Nico thinks as he hangs his head, hoping he didn’t make his boss a raving madman hellbent on revenge when he returned to Boston.

*

After showering and scrubbing your body clean three times, you pull on your oversized nightshirt and slip into bed. The sheets are cool against your skin as you reach over and find your phone. You notice a couple missed texts from Nora, Marta, and Fran. All of them telling you they were headed home and would see you at lunch tomorrow. You also notice the couple of missed calls from Ransom, the most recent one was five minutes ago.

You press his name and listen as the sound of the phone ringing begins.

“Hey you,” Ransom greets. His voice sounds like he's stressed but trying to hide it from you.

You hear the slight edge to his voice, “Ransom? Everything okay?”

“Now that I’m talking to you, yes. How was Elysium?”

“Fine, except some guy, named Julian? I think, was hitting on me. I told him I was with someone but he didn't listen. Nico had to step in, but then the guy got called away,” you sigh, “the whole experience left me kind of sour the rest of the night, but the girls cheered me up.”

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft yet filled with concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay…” You lie back on the bed, your limbs sprawled out. 

Sensing you wanted to change the subject, Ransom circles back to focus on your earlier statement. “So you’re with someone, huh?” He inquires with a tease to his voice. “Do I know the guy?”

You roll your eyes, and flip over to lay on your stomach, “Maybe. He’s very handsome, got some of the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen. He can be stubborn sometimes but he's sweet and he means well. Oh! And he looks _really_ good in a suit.” You bite your lip trying to hide your smile. 

On the other end of the line, Ransom is grinning like a fool. He feels like a high schooler head over heels for his first crush. He’s never ever felt this way before, it's an intoxicating feeling, “Sounds like a hell of a guy, what’s his name?” Ransom waits with bated breath for your answer.

“His name is Ransom Drysdale, do you know him?” You are enjoying this little game. It easily washes away the events from earlier. 

“In fact, I do.” Ransom chuckles, “but you know something, I heard that he’s already got a woman. She’s gorgeous, absolutely unbelievable and wicked smart. I mean, she’s gotta be in order to put up with him. And rumor has it, he’s hopelessly in love with her. So in love with her, in fact, he would rather be home with her than dealing with business matters out of state.” Ransom scrubs his hand down his face. He’s really happy at this moment and he doesn't think he’s ever been this happy.

You are blinking away tears, his words have you misty eyed, “Is that right?” You smother a wet laugh.

“Oh yeah.” He reassures. While you may not be able to see him, you can almost hear his smile.

“I miss you.” You admit because you did, you really did miss him. What you wouldn’t give to be in his arms right at this very moment.

“And I miss you too,” Ransom sighs lightly on the other end, “I should be home the day after tomorrow and when I am, I am going to put that charcoal suit on for you, take you out to a romantic dinner and then bring you back home and devour you.”

Your body floods with heat. You swallow since your throat feels dry. You couldn't wait to finally have him and lay your eyes upon his naked flesh, feel his lips moving over your skin, and him finally claiming you. _Fuck_ , you think as you muse on the upcoming sex dreams that were surely coming your way tonight.

“Y/N?” Ransom questions with a whisper.

Should you tease him in return? This could quickly turn into phone sex but it wouldn't be as satisfying as the real thing. You clear your throat, “I can’t wait.” Truth is you really couldn’t but alas fate was cruel and waiting is what you had to do.

“I should let you get to sleep.” Ransom looks at the time on his phone and sees that it's late, “Sleep well, beautiful. I will be home before you know it.”

You weren't sure how to end the call so you opted for the simplest route, “Goodnight, handsome.” You hang up first, slightly out of fear of saying something you weren't quite ready to say out loud. You go to sleep, with a smile on your face, hopeful and excited for your future with Ransom. While darkness still looms overhead, you let yourself revel in a little bit of happiness for once in your life.

\-------

The following day, you and Nora meet with Fran and Marta for lunch in downtown Boston at Bostonia Public House. The four of you are sitting at a table on the second floor of the two-story restaurant. The air is filled with its vibrant bar atmosphere and sociable sophistication; it makes for the start of a happy afternoon. Nearby, Nico was perched at the high-top bar with Mikhail by his side. The two bodyguards were engaged in light conversation but every so often stopped to do a quick visual sweep of the area.

“Where does Ransom find these guys?” Marta asks, as she eyes Nico and Mikhail. “Are all of them this good looking?” Nico suddenly makes eye contact with her gaze which causes her to quickly look away and grab her drink effectively hiding her blushing face from him.

All four of you laugh. Nora snorts and pipes out, “someone seems to be needy. Make yourself more obvious why don't you.” 

Marta flaps her hand at Nora and shushes her quickly, “Stop they’ll hear you! I don’t need that kind of attention.”

You cover your mouth with your hand trying to silence the giggles threatening to escape. You felt bad for Marta. You knew she didn’t have time for a private life in the last few years because she was always taking care of Harlan. These days however, were a different story. You take a sip of water before starting in, “You know, Marta, Nico’s a sweetheart. He reminds me of my stepbrothers - caring, protective, heart of gold. Mikhail’s a little more serious but still nice. If you let me know which one you fancy, I can put in a good word for you.” Your sly smile causes her to bury her face in her hands and muffle a frustrated shriek.

“Yeah, Marta, spill the tea. Who's got your panties in a twist?” Fran wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

You, Nora, and Fran all giggle while Marta blushes.

“Oh! You three hush!” Her voice is muffled as her head is still buried in her hands. You reach over and rub her back, feeling bad for teasing her so much. Marta lifts her head and sighs dramatically, “Nico. okay? Nico’s is the one I fancy. I mean, look at him-” She turns to stare at him dreamily, “He’s just so handsome.”

“She’s right.” Fran remarks. “Italian boys are notoriously good looking and it doesn't help they are all really good in the sack.”

“Fran!” You exclaim as your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. 

Fran shrugs her shoulder in lieu of an apology, “What? I am just saying Marta never stood a chance! He’s an Italian stallion. He was designed to make women weak in the knees!” Fran makes a show of giving Nico a seductive looking over.

“Marta, I would like to formally apologize for our dear Fran’s mouth.” You grab her hand, bringing her attention to you.

“Do not apologize Y/N.” Marta states as she looks at you. “I knew what I was getting into when I became friends with her. However, if we can circle back to your offer of putting a good word for me with Nico, I would appreciate it.” She gives you a hopeful smile.

You lean over and give her a kiss on the cheek, “Anything for you. I want you to be happy. In fact, when Ransom gets back I will talk to him about maybe seeing if he can give Nico some free time so you two can go on a date. He told me last night he should be home tomorrow, so I will ask him then.”

Marta squeals with delight. The waiter came to the table delivering your food. After making sure everything was all right with your meals, he left, leaving the four of you to dig into your food.

Nora broke the momentary silence, “You said you talked to him last night?” She asks as she takes a sip of her drink. “Look, I know I asked you last night but-” Three pairs of eyes stare at you intently before Nora asks her question, “are you two a couple or what?”

“We are,” you pause for effect, “we are a couple. I am with him, and he is with me. We are together. We talked about it last night and, yeah.”

“I knew it!” Fran exclaims. “Like I said last night, he’s a changed man because of you.” She snorts, “For once in his life he finally has someone to care for, to care about.” Fran then smiles at you, “I’m so glad it’s you. ”

“I am happy for you Y/N,” Marta declares before taking a bite of her food, “he has always needed someone to keep him grounded. Harlan always did his best but sometimes it didn’t stick as much as he would have liked. Ransom always had his mother in his ear poisoning the good wisdom Harlan tried to instill in him.” Marta’s expression turned sour at the thought of Linda.

Nora nodded and agreed with Marta’s accurate description, “I believe that. I’ve only had rare interactions with Linda through the many years I’ve lived here, but she’s always been a conniving bitch. You don’t need to be a psychologist to see she’s got her claws deep in Ransom. I think she's one of the main reasons he did a lot of the shit he did when he was younger.” She took a bite of her food and swallowed it before continuing, “Although, I think as Ransom got older, he saw what his mother was trying to do and pulled away which gave him a fighting chance to be his own man which, in turn, has led to this positive change in his behavior since he met you, Y/N. All that aside, you do know if that douchebag breaks your heart we will be right there to take down his ass.” She motions to Marta and Fran.

“Yep.” “Yes.” Fran and Marta agree at once.

“Thank you ladies. I love all three of you so much.” You announce before taking another sip of water. 

After lunch is over, the four of you stand outside and hug one another goodbye. You and Nora watch Fran and Marta walk towards their car before you two turn around and are escorted towards the SUV you and Nora had ridden down to the restaurant by Nico in front of you and Mikhail behind you.

You take that moment to lean into Nora’s space, “Hey, so I have a favor to ask of you. When Ransom gets back, he said he plans on taking me to dinner. It’s going to be our first real date and he said he was going to take me somewhere special.”

Nora gives you that knowing look, “You don’t know what to wear, do you?”

You shake your head, “No, and knowing him it’ll be somewhere fancy, somewhere where we can be unbothered and alone.”

Nora hooks her arm through yours. “That actually works out in my favor because Amanda, the woman from last night, wants to go out and I need to find an outfit for my date too.”

You rest your head on Nora’s shoulder and smile, “That sounds great. We can tell Nico and Mikhail we want to go to the mall, or wherever.”

“Y/N--,” Nora begins before the sounds of gunshots ring out through the air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> violazione - breach
> 
> addio - goodbye


	8. campagna

There’s always that feeling of time slowing down when something bad happens. A person sees something awful unfolding before their very eyes and that person feels frozen in place, helpless, unable to do anything. Unfortunately for Nora, she is that person at that very moment. One second, Nora’s busy thinking of what stores she wants to shop at for her date tonight and the next second she sees a black SUV slowly driving past them and the muzzle of a gun coming out of the window. A muzzle pointed directly at her best friend.

“Y/N…” Nora’s voice is small, almost a fearful whisper, she’s afraid. The life with her best friend flashes before her eyes. Nora’s adrenaline spikes instantly. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up; danger’s right in front of her and she has to act. “GUN!” Nora screams at the top of her lungs and grabs her best friend, effectively yanking her to the ground. The bullet meant for Y/N goes straight through the car window above them. Tinted-black glass showers the women. The shattering sounds of glass mix with their screams.

Nico jumps into action. Using his body as a shield, he covers the girls while shouting orders at Mikhail. The other bodyguard is already two steps ahead of his shouting colleague and is exchanging gunfire with the black SUV. 

Mikhail crouches behind the front end of the car. He fires a few shots and peaks up over the hood of the car to see if he can get a good look at the shooter. He’s unable to see how many people are in the car aside from the shooter and the driver due to the pitch-black tinted windows. There’s a short lull in bullets being fired from the shooter. The silence is broken by the sounds of police sirens as they grow closer to the scene. Mikhail sees this as his opportunity to try and take out the shooter. He jumps up and out from behind the safety of the car, he charges forward emptying his clip into the open window where the shooter shot from.

Shouts and yells come from inside the shooter’s SUV. Just when Mikhail thinks he has finally taken out the shooter, a bullet pierces through his left shoulder knocking him to the ground. Mikhail’s painful screams are drowned out by the sounds of squealing tires as the shooter’s car takes off down the street, fleeing from the scene. 

*

Detective Ben Teller is just getting into his police cruiser. The coffee in his hand is a welcome warmth against his cold fingers. He had a long sleepless night. Truth be told he got to sleep at a decent time but was unceremoniously woken up at three in the morning due to a multiple homicide down by the docks. The smell of fish and sweaty dock workers still linger in his nose. Now that he’s comfortable in the driver's seat, he relaxes slightly. He opens the lid to his coffee and inhales the delicious scent of coffee and cream. The wonderful smell causes him to close his eyes and rest his head back on the headrest; a momentary second of peace. Ben brings the cup carefully to his lips, sipping the delectable liquid. As he reveled in the taste, the sound of static came over the police-ban radio: “ _Multiple shots fired at the corner of State and Broad Streets. All available units please proceed with caution._ ” The radio on the dash announces. 

Ben realizes he is only two blocks away from the scene. He puts the lid back on his coffee and grabs the radio, “This is Detective Ben Teller, show me responding. I am two blocks from State and Broad.” Ben puts his car in drive and presses down on the gas. He makes it to the intersection within minutes only to almost crash head-on into a black SUV speeding away. He swerves his car slamming on the breaks. Ben quickly gets out of his car, gun drawn and pointed towards the SUV that almost hit him. He takes notice of the bullet holes already riddling the side of the car and is able to get a partial plate number before the SUV turns the corner.

Ben reaches into his car, grabbing the radio and announces the partial plate number and description of the SUV along with what direction the car is heading to dispatch, then declares: “I am not in pursuit of the vehicle; I am headed towards the scene to investigate.”

*

When the SUV is out of sight, Nico carefully checks the area. “Stay here, and stay down, okay?” he urges Nora and Y/N who are visibly shaking from the entire ordeal. The girls nod and hold each other close. 

Nico does a visual perimeter sweep to ensure there are no other shooters around. He sees Mikhail laying on the ground clutching at his bleeding shoulder. “Mik? Mik, you alright?” he calls out to his colleague but the only answer he gets in return are pained groans. Concluding the danger has passed, Nico runs to Mikhail’s side. “Shit,” Nico whispers to himself as he falls to his knees next to the bleeding man, “alright buddy, I’ve got you. Let’s see what’s happening.” Nico’s no stranger to bullet wounds; they are a predictable hazard in their line of work.

He carefully rolls Mikhail towards him checking the bullet wound, “Luckily it's a through and through. Hold on, I’m going to get the professional.” Nico quickly runs back to the car towards the girls to grab Nora, “Mikhail’s been shot, it's a through and through. I need you to take a look at him, can you do that for me?” he asks Nora. She is still shaken but takes a few deep breaths to steel herself, someone is hurt, and she needs to do her job as a nurse and help them. Nora nods and releases Y/N, she follows Nico over to where Mikhail is laying on the ground. 

Nico doubles back to Y/N, the scene he comes upon breaks his heart. Tears stain her face as she holds herself tightly, staring off into nothingness. “Y/N,” Nico speaks gently as if he were addressing a child, but his words are interrupted by the sounds of sirens and a car pulling up. Nico’s hand goes to grab his gun, but he sees that it’s the police and he relaxes.

*

Ben pulls up to the scene. It’s a mess of glass and blood on the street. He sees a man lying on the ground and a woman crouched over him, pressing a balled-up scarf on his shoulder. Ben gets out of his car and rushes to the woman's side only to be shocked when he discovers the woman is none other than Y/N’s roommate, Nora.

“Nora?” Ben is on his knees next to the man, but in front of Nora, “what are you doing here? What the hell happened?”

Nora briefly looks up at the man who says her name before returning full attention to her patient, “Y/N and I were having lunch with the girls, we were headed back to the car when this black SUV drove by slowly. I saw a gun, and all this happened. I didn’t see who it was, Y/N and I were hidden behind the car. Mikhail got shot, through and through. I need you to call an ambulance.” 

Ben’s blood runs cold, “Y/N’s here? Is she okay? Where is she, Nora?” He starts to look around for the woman who left him for a mob boss but still holds a special place in his heart. 

His panicked frenzy is interrupted by bloody fingers snapping in front of his face, “Ben, I need you to focus. You need to call an ambulance right now.” Nora shouts at him. Ben, realizing he’s letting his feelings for Y/N get in the way of his job, shakes himself out of his stupor and calls for an ambulance. 

Within ten minutes, the ambulance and other officers arrive at the scene. The street is taped off with yellow caution tape. Mikhail’s taken away in the ambulance with Nora by his side; she isn’t going to leave her patient. He did after all risk his life defending her and her best friend.

Nico and Y/N are standing on the sidewalk next to their bullet ridden car. Nico’s arm is tightly and protectively wrapped around Y/N’s shoulder, there's no way in hell he is leaving her alone with anyone right now. Several cops try to question her alone but Nico refuses to let that happen. Ben finally comes over when other cops are unable to get a statement from the pair.

“Y/N?” he calls out her name. Ben takes in the sight of his ex-girlfriend. A vacant expression dons her face. She is nervously chewing on her thumbnail, which she’s only doing to stop her hands from shaking. 

She clears her throat before speaking and turns her attention to the man who says her name but is surprised to see Ben, “Ben? What are you doing here?” Despite Ben being on the scene for over a half hour, this is the first time she sees him. She knew Nora and Mikhail were on their way to the hospital, only because Nico told her. Y/N is too closed off from the situation. She’s too busy trying to keep herself calm and not go into full panic mode over what _could have_ happened.

“I was the first officer on scene. I need to get your statement,” Ben pulls out his notepad from his pocket and waits for an answer. “If you are up to it,” he adds as an afterthought, trying to be sympathetic. Y/N doesn't answer verbally, she only nods and waits for his questions. “Okay, so Nora told me you and she were having lunch with the girls?”

“Yes, that's right. We were having lunch with our friends Fran and Marta at the Bostonia Public House. We had just finished eating, said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Nora and I were talking about going shopping on our way back to the car when she yelled ‘GUN!’ and pulled me to the ground. All I remember is bullets and glass.” The tears are streaming back down her cheeks. The memories of her’s and Nora’s screams echo loudly in her ears. Y/N turns and buries her face into Nico’s chest who holds her close. 

“I think we are done here.” Nico concludes the conversation, but Ben puts his hand up.

“I will say when we are done. Now who are you?” Ben eyes the man holding his ex suspiciously.

“I am Miss Y/L/N’s personal bodyguard. The man who was shot is my colleague and a part of her protection detail as well.” Nico curtly informs the Detective. He knew how to deal with cops in these situations. The vaguer and less information given, the better.

Ben gives an unsatisfied frown, “Her protection detail? And who bankrolls that detail, I am assuming it's Ransom Drysdale.” Ben isn't stupid, he knows what is happening. Y/N got mixed up in the Thrombey family bullshit again and she almost paid for it with her life, _again_. He had been helping Ransom Drysdale with investigating the arson at Y/N’s bookshop as well. He couldn't let it slip to anyone because Ben had promised he wouldn’t say a word to her, if he happened to run into her. 

A black town car pulls up outside the police tape and beeps its horn. It’s the car Nico called to take him and Y/N to the hospital where Nora and Mikhail are. “Like I said, Officer, we are done here.” Nico moves to escort Y/N safely towards the car but again he is stopped by Ben’s hand, but this time the hand is against his chest.

“First of all, it’s Detective, not Officer. Secondly, you are still witnesses to this crime, so you are not going anywhere.” Ben’s lip curls into a small snarl.

Nico removes Ben’s hand from his chest, ready to physically retaliate when Y/N steps between them, “Ben please, let us go. I answered your questions. I just want to get to the hospital to check on my friends.” She pleads to her former lover through her red tear-filled eyes.

Ben can’t say no to her, so he nods defeatedly and lets them pass. He watches them head to a black town car. His chest is filled with a hot mixture of fury and heartbreak all over again when the pair get into the car and drive off. He scrubs a hand down his face as he mentally remarks this is the day from hell.

\-------

The sprawling three-story mansion the Ferretti family calls home is outside of New York City and sits on the cliffs near the sea. Ransom has been to this house twice before - once in his teens when he accompanied Harlan to a meeting, which was an event to help Ransom see how things work, and the second time was to watch Luca Ferretti marry the love of his life, which was five years ago.

He had frequented the city and partied with Luca and others but he had not stepped inside the gorgeous mansion besides those two times, and now here he was stepping into the French front doors for the third time, being greeted by none other than Francesco Ferretti, Luca’s grandfather.

“Ransom Drysdale!” Francesco boasts.

“Mister Ferretti,” Ransom responds as the two men shake hands.

Francesco rolls his eyes, “Please, it’s Frankie now. You know I’m retired since Luca’s been runnin’ the family business for three years now.” Frankie claps a hand on Ransom’s shoulder, “Sorry about your grandfather. I’m also sorry we couldn't make it to the funeral. The birth of my great-granddaughter was occurring, and I didn’t want to miss it.”

“No worries, Frankie. I understand the importance of family.”

Frankie raises a brow and scoffs, “Well you’re one to talk. The Thrombey family is known for its drama. Always fighting and bickering with one another. You know, if you guys were a much more harmonious bunch, all of them would be invited to various events, not just you or your grandfather.”

“I know what you mean,” Ransom pauses; for a moment he is lost in thought and wonders what exactly his family would be like if they had all gotten along, but with a quick shake of his head focusing back on the reality in front of him, he continues, “I just meant I know how important your family is to you and I understand your need and want to be here with Luca and the birth of your great-granddaughter.”

Luca walks in cradling a baby in his arms. He looks up and sees Ransom. Luca smiles, “Ah, Ransom! Just who I was looking for. I am so glad you are here now because I can finally get a straight answer to the question that has been plaguing my thoughts since our last conversation: Who’s the girl?”

Ransom takes in Luca. His dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and full-grown beard. One wouldn't think him a ruthless man with a baby in his hands, but he’s the most ruthless man in New York City and Long Island. Ransom remembers Luca went through hell for the love of his life. There were also rumors about Luca’s aunt running away with a law enforcement agent years ago. No one had seen the woman since.

Ransom scoffs with a bright smirk, “She’s the love of my life, Luca.” Luca’s smile is vibrant, but it quickly fades when he notices Ransom’s expression shift to one of concern, “She also happens to be the reason I am here. Someone’s trying to get to me by using her as a pawn in a dark game. I need your help, please. I will do anything to make sure that she is kept safe.”

Francesco can’t believe what he’s hearing or seeing. The fire and conviction in Ransom’s eyes burned so deep that Francesco could swear he could feel it. The blues of his eyes were darker at this moment than Francesco remembered, they were filled with a hurricane of rage. He never thought Ransom Drysdale could be capable of falling in love but here he is listening to the young man practically beg for help to keep the love of his life safe. The elder Ferretti looks at his grandson, “Let me take baby Amelia while you two discuss business.”

Luca hands over his daughter Amelia then gestures Ransom towards the main floor private office. The two men begin walking and talking, “How long have you known her?”

“Just over a month,” Ransom responds as he follows Luca into the private office he’s only been in once before - a meeting with Luca’s father and grandfather, which included Harlan years ago.

Luca chuckles, “She must be something special if you’re that far gone.”

“She is. She deserves the world, and so much more.” Ransom recalls using the same words he had spoken to Nico weeks ago.

Luca motions to a seat, “Drink?” Luca notices Ransom declines then moves towards the desk, “What happened?”

“Someone set her place of business on fire, with her still inside of it. One of my men was able to get her out, but another one was not so lucky. The local fire chief and a Boston PD detective have confirmed it was arson.” Ransom has never told Y/N he’s been working with the detective who threw a punch. Ransom knew if the detective had her best interest in hand, he’d be the best person for placing all the pieces together and finding out who was doing this to him, and her. Ransom continues, “Surveillance from several businesses around the town have a hooded figure walking the sidewalk and throwing a Molotov cocktail into the building.”

Luca purses his lips, “You think it’s someone close? Inside the Thrombey family? Or outside your blood?”

Ransom shrugs, “I don't know. I’ve never trusted anyone in my family to begin with and that suspicion has only grown since Harlan passed. He was a healthy man, and he just up and died. Harlan and Y/N, my woman, had befriended one another years ago when she first established the business. He kept her off the books.”

Luca raises his brows, “Why? Were they…” Luca doesn't finish the thought aloud. He knows Ransom will understand what he’s implying.

“No.” Ransom states firmly. “It’s funny because I had accused her of the same thing during our first meeting and she slapped me clear across the face. I can still feel the sting even now.” Ransom smiles, rubbing his cheek at the phantom pain. Luca threw his head back and laughed deeply, “Oh, I like her already.”

Ransom knew she was a spitfire, and he had become utterly intoxicated by her the moment her hand made the harsh contact with his cheek. “But in all seriousness, they were friends. The only person, only individual, outside of the Thrombeys he trusted. He even paid off the loan for her bookshop.” Ransom had learned of that tidbit when Ben had done some digging around for insurance. He had presented it to Ransom, and Ransom had no clue his grandfather had done such a thing for her. Once Ransom knew what Harlan had done, he understood Harlan looked at Y/N as his own child. 

“Your grandfather must’ve valued her, if he had gone that far to help her.” Luca quips as he sees Ransom lost in thought.

“Harlan protected her, fiercely, like she was blood. And now, I fear, I can’t even do that right.”

Luca temples his fingers, “I have an idea, a couple actually. If you want to hear them.”

“Anything to help. Please.” Ransom begs.

“Well, my first idea is that you bring her down here for safekeeping until all this has been taken care of. You need to focus on who’s doing this and get rid of them fast! Having her close means you will be too focused on keeping her safe than finding those responsible.”

Ransom snorts, “I tried to persuade her to go back out west to be with her family out there. I know her father tried to persuade her as well. She wanted to stay. She told me she wasn't going anywhere.”

“Have you met her father?”

Ransom nods, “Yes. He’s protective of her. I expect that from him, after all he’s her father. Meeting him made me wish I had a better relationship with mine, but that’ll never happen,” Ransom clears his throat, “anyway, she’s under lock and key now. At my personal house with tons of security, she’s still free to do what she wants and needs, but my men are with her around the clock.”

“Well, I could always have my Grace give her a call. I know my wife won't leave Amelia alone, but I could have her give your woman a call. Perhaps having another woman explain the situation would be easier. My Grace has been known to add structure and a sense of calm during chaotic times and I guarantee she can convince Y/N to come down here, where she’ll be safe inside this fortress, until you figure everything out.”

Ransom likes this idea, “If you think Grace would agree to it. I don’t want us to be a burden on your family, especially now with the new baby.”

“Nonsense! We are friends Ransom. Known each other since we were teenagers. We help one another,” Luca chuckles, “besides, I think Grace would love another woman in the house. Someone to talk to besides all these men.”

“So, what are your other ideas?”

Luca sighs then presses on, “You could marry her. Officially make her a Drysdale.”

“But what if this person, or people, keep coming for her? For me?”

“I should hope that once they see she has Drysdale as her last name, they should know to back off. However, from what you have told me, it seems like they are wanting to get rid of her. Not you.” Luca raises a brow, “How much of her past are you aware of?”

Ransom shrugs and motions out with a hand, “I know enough. I’d rather not disclose what I know.”

Luca nods, “Understood.” Luca pauses. He’s ready to open his mouth to continue but is stopped by a blunt knock on the door. “Come in.”

Alexei barges in, sliding the phone which was by his ear down. “Sorry boss. But Nico’s on the phone. He says it’s urgent.”

Ransom stands as his blood begins to boil. He snatches the phone out of Alexei’s hand. “What is it?”

Luca watches as Ransom’s face drops, his complexion goes stark white. He knows his friend has received devastating news. Luca hurriedly gets up and rushes over. “What happened?”

Ransom removes the phone from his ear. “Y/N. She was shot at. Someone opened fire and began firing upon her and her best friend.”

“You need to go Ransom!” Luca exclaims, already pushing Ransom out into the hallway. “Go to her!”

Ransom’s vision is blurry as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “She’s fine. She and her friend are in one piece.” He’s trying to regulate his breathing as the beast within him becomes consumed with rage. _How dare someone go after her? Again! How dare they try to take her away from him?_

Luca shakes his head, “Her life is in danger Ransom. I suggest you go back home, and you convince her with every fiber of your being to get her to come down here. She will be safer when she is miles away from you and you are able to find out who the rat is within your kingdom.”

Ransom knows Luca’s right. He must return to Boston, to Y/N. He needed her to live, to survive. He needed her in his life. The war has begun, and Ransom must make sure he conquers all. He is king, and no one is safe anymore.

\-------

A couple hours later, Ransom is hot on Alexei’s heels as he follows his bodyguard to where Y/N and Nico are waiting, bypassing the front desk, and heading straight for the surgery floor. He recalls walking into another hospital weeks ago, trying to find her. His heart had been in a panic until he laid his eyes on her and when they did his heart swelled, almost ready to burst. He had been relieved she was okay, relieved she was still breathing. He had been hellbent on revenge, trying to figure out who was doing this. 

Ransom spots you first once he steps off the elevator. The two of you lock eyes, from across the room. Your breath hitches and the tears you had been fighting off for the last few hours finally spill over onto your cheeks. There’s a pep in his step as he makes long strides to you and wraps you in your arms. His hand cradles your head as he whispers, “I’m here.”

“Ransom,” you sob into his shoulder as you wrap your arms around him in return. You close your eyes tightly trying to force the tears to stop but you are so thankful he’s here and relieved to be in his arms that your emotions are getting the best of you. Ransom quietly shushes you, trying to soothe your frayed nerves, “It’s okay, I am right here.” You open your eyes, pull back in his embrace and wipe your face of tears before looking him in the eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize. None of this is your fault.” Ransom rubs a thumb under your eye catching a stray tear, “I am just glad you are safe.” He pauses briefly. “What happened?”

“Nora and I had lunch with Fran and Marta, we parted ways afterwards. Nora and I were talking about going shopping, the next thing I knew she was pulling me to the ground and there were bullets flying through the air. She got me out of harm’s way, protected me.” You give a little smile, “She saved my life, along with helping Mikhail after he was hit.”

Ransom’s eyes roam over the waiting room area. He spots Nora talking to a doctor. He returns his eyes to you and kisses you lightly. He then pulls away, “I’ll be right back.”

You nod your head at him then make your way over to Nico, who’s on high alert and standing confident a few feet away. You knew he had called Ransom once the two of you arrived at the hospital, only a couple of blocks away from the scene of the crime. You had done your best to keep calm since you had arrived, waiting patiently for updates from Nora and the doctor. 

Ransom walks over to Nora. Her clothing has blood stains, but it doesn't matter to him. He walks up to her and wraps her in a hug. 

“Uh, Ransom?” Nora inquires.

“Thank you for saving the love of my life,” Ransom whispers before withdrawing himself from the embrace.

Nora has her eyebrows raised, trying to figure out Ransom’s sudden action but she nods her head as his words sink in. “She’s my best friend Ransom. I’d do anything to protect her.”

Ransom gives a lopsided smile, “How could I ever repay you?”

Nora rolls her eyes, “You don't need to repay me Ransom, I was protecting my best friend, like I said. Man, you sure have changed Drysdale, and all because of her.” Nora finds you standing next to Nico, waiting patiently, and eyeing her and Ransom.

Ransom glances at you. His heart skips a beat, and he smiles. His voice is light. “She’s my everything Nora.”

“Look, if you really want to repay me, here's what you can do: take her out. Don't let this deter you from you two having your special date,” Nora sighs, “all of this violence and drama has been extremely stressful and what she really needs is a night out in order to forget about all of that, even if it’s just for a night. I need her to be happy, she _deserves_ to be happy.”

Ransom looks at Nora. “Will do. Thank you again Nora.”

Nora nods her head and smiles, “You’re welcome, Ransom.” She watches as Ransom makes his way back to Y/N. Not once did Nora picture Ransom Drysdale being in her life again after high school, let alone being in love with the closest friend she had ever had.

\-------

The following day Linda storms into Thrombey Manor. “Hugh Ransom Drysdale!” She’s been in a panic for a couple of days now. He hasn't returned her calls, or texts. 

_“Why the fuck would he leave town?” she had irritatingly inquired when she was pacing her living room when Julian informed her Ransom was heading down to NYC. She stopped in front of the mini bar, pouring herself three fingers of scotch in order to calm herself down._

_Julian had only shrugged in response. He knew it was best to let Linda fume. He had been angry about not claiming Y/N especially when she had been dangled in front of him at Elysium. He had wasted the rest of the evening away in his office, eventually making his way to Linda’s for the night when the club closed._

_“Goddamn bastard!” Linda threw her now empty glass at the wall as she watched it shatter into millions of shards, her gaze turned to Julian, her red hot glare burning into his soul, “You sure she’s going to be downtown tomorrow? I need that bitch dead!”_

_“Yes,” Julian had finally uttered. He then walked over to Linda and wrapped her in his arms. “She will be dead by this time tomorrow. Soon enough, we’ll be able to get Ransom.” Julian had cupped Linda’s cheek and brushed his mouth against hers. “And then I will personally hand you the keys to the kingdom.”_

Linda now steps in and out of a few rooms, trying to find her son. “Hugh Ransom Drysdale!” She screams at the top of her lungs.

The moment Fran had heard Linda’s voice shouting was the moment she came into the house. Fran hid away in the kitchen not wanting to deal with Linda but when she realizes Linda’s not going to be leaving any time soon, she decides to face the woman she despises. Seconds later Fran walks into the foyer, coming from the direction of the kitchen. She jumps nearly out of her skin when Linda turns and faces her.

“For god sakes Fran, I’ve been yelling for the past ten minutes! Where is Ransom?”

“He’s not here, Miss Thrombey.” Fran replies as calmly as possible.

“You should know where he is Fran. He is the boss!”

Fran shrugs, knowing full well where he is. “All I was informed of prior to his departure was that he would be staying in New York for a few days. As for any travel arrangements after that, I am unaware. I am not _his mother_.” 

Linda purses her lips in anger and points a finger, “Don't you sass me. I know you know more than you are saying. If you don’t tell me right now, I will make sure that you are out of a job.” 

Fran shrugs, not giving a care. “Miss Thrombey, I deeply apologize but I am not under your employ, so you cannot fire me.” she says with disgust, “you're not my boss. Ransom is.”

Linda’s face is red and blotchy, she's ready to scream in rage. “ _For now_! So, I suggest you tell me where the hell my son is.”

Fran’s eyes squinted suspiciously as she instantly picked up on the ‘for now’ portion of Linda’s statement, but she sees the anger in Linda’s eyes, and hears the rage in the woman’s voice. She can’t protect Y/N and Ransom forever. She sighs heavily, “He’s probably at his house in Lincoln.”

Linda’s demeanor changes in a flash. She smiles, “Thank you Fran.”

Linda drives from Thrombey Manor to her son’s personal house. She takes in the guards outside of the house, wondering why they are here when they should be at the big estate. She parks her car, marches up the front walk, and goes to barge in the front door but is stopped by the guards. “Ransom!” she shouts as she slaps away the guards’ hands.

*

“Fuck!” Ransom hisses as he stands up suddenly. He moves quickly towards Nico, who is in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water. Ransom orders him to “make sure Y/N stays upstairs. I do _not_ want her down here.”

Nico nods curtly, “Sure thing boss.” Nico then disappears upstairs and stands guard outside the bedroom.

Knowing Nico is making sure the love of his life is remaining upstairs, Ransom turns on his heel and makes his way to the front door. There’s no way in hell he’s going to let his mom see or even meet Y/N.

Ransom opens the front and plasters on a smile. The exasperation isn’t hidden in his voice when he inquires, “What are you doing here?”

Linda smiles in return, “I've been absolutely worried about my son! You haven’t answered my texts, returned my calls. Something could’ve happened to you.”

“I am fine, mother. You don’t need to know my every move. I am my own person. An adult. You don’t need to be parading around trying to figure out where I am every goddamn minute of every goddamn day.” Ransom’s rage is starting to brew again. He doesn’t need Linda barging in at every turn of the dime. Ransom raises a brow, “How’d you know I was here?”

Linda sighs and crosses her arms, “Fran. I don’t see why you keep her around. She is rude and insubordinate; she needs to go.”

“She’s an exceptional employee. I’m not getting rid of her.” He would never fire the woman. She was Y/N’s friend, a familiar face inside the manor where, one day, Y/N would live with Ransom. The thought gives him hope and a slight flutter in his heart.

“Why are you _here_? And not there? At the manor.” Linda demands.

“That’s none of your concern.” Ransom retorts.

“You are in charge! You need to be running things from the manor! Not from your bachelor pad whore house!” Linda rants as she unfolds her arms and spreads them wide. “I mean, you have the place surrounded with protective detail Ransom! What are you trying to hide? Or should I ask, _who_?”

“Like I said, mother,” Ransom grounds out, “it’s none of your concern.”

Linda begins moving around the room. “I have a right to know who you are protecting Ransom!” She tries to peer into the kitchen then moves towards the stairs.

Ransom breathes a sigh of relief under his breath as Nico plants his feet at the bottom of the stairs, keeping his mother from going any further. “You are not in charge, mother. You should leave.”

Linda eyes Nico suspiciously then turns to face her son, “You can’t keep whatever whore you have hidden away forever, Ransom.” She knows the bitch isn’t dead, knows her son is protecting her. Linda knows Ransom will hate his girl being called a whore.

Ransom balls his hands into fists. His blood boiling as he seethes with clenched teeth. He takes one step towards his mother then another. “Get out of _my_ house. Matter of fact, maybe you should leave town while you’re at it. Take some time to cool off,” Ransom pauses as he places himself within inches of Linda, “because it seems you are forgetting who's in charge here. This is my kingdom, not yours. I am in charge, yet it seems like you must know where I am at all times. Is it because you want me gone, mother?” He pushes his face close to his mother’s, examining every inch and detail of her features looking for the slightest tell she is guilty.

Linda lets out a shocked gasp as she places a hand on her chest. “Ransom! I would never—”

“Get out of my house!” Ransom yells. He had been on a cliff since the fire at the bookshop, and now with the shooting, Ransom is on the edge. And with what Linda has insinuated, about him having some whore locked away, he’s fed up. He is finished with the woman who gave birth to him.

Linda tries to display her most displeased face. Sad eyes behind her glasses, quivering lips. “Ransom! Please! I am only trying to do what’s best. For you.”

Ransom grabs her arm and yanks her towards the front door. “I am tired of your mercurial temperament.” He stops to only open the door. Ransom pushes her outside. “Leave me alone, mother. I don’t need you.” Ransom slams the door shut in Linda’s face, rendering her speechless, possibly for the first time ever. His heart’s racing as he feels the burden of his authoritarian parent of a mother being lifted off his shoulders for the first time in his life. 

\-------

The following evening, after Linda’s surprise visit to the house, Nora is helping you get ready for your date with Ransom. The two of you had gone shopping earlier in the day, visiting multiple stores until you found _thee_ dress to wear. The knee length, sleeveless dark cherry red number is made of a velvet bustier and tulle skirt. With the slight chill still in the air, you also bought a black lace cardigan to wear along with red shoes to complete the outfit.

_“Gorgeous!” Nora had exclaimed when you walked out of the fitting room._

_You had blushed and rolled your eyes, “Stop it!”_

_“Never!” Nora had responded as she walked up behind you and caught your eyes in the mirror. “You and Ransom deserve tonight. You especially,” she pauses and winks, “because you haven’t had sex in ages.”_

_Both of you tore into a fit of giggles. “Dry spell ends tonight,” you had breathlessly gasped out, trying to regain your composure._

Now, you two were drinking wine to calm your restless nerves as you waited patiently for Ransom to arrive. You had your outfit on and makeup done, your hair is nicely done into your favorite style for a date night occasion.

“You should be glad Nico kept you up here,” Nora remarks as she spreads her arms wide, as the two of you sit in the little seating area inside of the master bedroom. 

You had been discussing Linda’s unexpected visit to the house the previous day. “I know. But hearing them arguing? In person? To hear the hatred in her words, the poison? It made me want to go down there and smack her across the face.” You chuckle as you shake your head, recalling you had smacked Ransom across the cheek the first time you met him.

Nora raises a brow, “What are you thinking about?”

“I slapped Ransom the first time we met. He accused me of sleeping with Harlan.” you respond as you take a sip of wine. That night changed your life forever. You wouldn’t change a thing. At that thought, you grip the wine glass in your hand. Would you really not change a thing? At all?

Nora snorts, “Fool.” She takes a sip and smiles, “But he’s a fool in love now. With you.” She sighs, “What happened after she left?”

“He seemed angry when she left but also relieved.” You take a sip of wine as you recall seeing Ransom leaning against the front door. He had looked angry yet when his eyes found yours, you could tell there was a weight lifted off his shoulders. All you could do was wrap your arms around him and hold him. You knew, from Harlan, what Ransom and Linda’s relationship was like. But now that you’ve witnessed it through their shouting match, you knew Linda would be a force to reckon with when the time comes. You look at Nora and shrug, “He yelled at her to get out of the house. It was the kind of yell with the second meaning of ‘leave me alone and never come back’.”

“I told you Linda has her claws dug deep in Ransom. It’ll be hard to simply just sweep her under the rug.” 

You simply shrug, “I know.” You push all thoughts of Linda aside. “Tonight, is all I care about.”

Nora realizes you don’t want to talk about Linda anymore. So, she moves the subject back onto the date. “Ransom say where he’s taking you?”

“Somewhere nice. All I know is he’s wearing the suit from the business dinner we had. That suit has fueled many dreams and I can't wait to take it off him.”

“I know! You’ve told me as much.” Nora chuckles and grins, “And I’m sure he won't be able to wait to take off the stunning dress you have on.”

The doorbell chimes throughout the house, causing you and Nora to freeze and look at one other for several beats before you start giggling uncontrollably. Your nerves had been settled with the alcohol and conversation, yet your heart was beating rapidly at what waited for you throughout the rest of the evening.

“Don’t keep the man waiting,” Nora remarks with a smile as she stands. She holds out her hand, “Come on, gorgeous.”

You grab Nora’s hand and stand. You let her lead you out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She squeezes your hand reassuringly before letting go of it as she stops by the front door. 

“Have tons of wicked fun, Y/N.” Nora states with a playful smile and wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. She had her own plans for the evening, knowing not to return until mid-morning from her own date.

“Thanks Nora,” you whisper in a chuckle as she walks away. You turn towards the door, place your hand on the knob and turn it. Your breath is hitched in your throat as you take in Ransom on the other side of the threshold.

He’s wearing the charcoal three-piece suit with burgundy tie and handkerchief which makes him look breathtakingly and dashingly handsome. It makes you want to pull him upstairs and straight to the bedroom, forgetting all other plans. He’s also holding a bouquet of lavender roses in one of his hands. “Good evening.”

“Ransom,” you murmur as he holds out the bouquet. You take them and inhale their scent, remembering the first bouquet he had sent to the bookshop was the same. You sense him close the distance and cup your cheek. You move your gaze from the flowers to look at him. “They’re lovely.”

“Not as lovely as you,” Ransom whispers as his thumb glides over your lips. “Are you ready?”

You nod your head as you place the bouquet on the entryway table. You then let Ransom take your hand and walk you to the SUV waiting for the two of you. Nico and Alexei are waiting beside it and once they see you walking towards them, Alexei walks away, leaving Nico to open the back door for you and Ransom.

Once situated inside the confinement of the SUV and Nico and Alexei are sitting up front, you and Ransom wrap yourselves in each other. Not wanting to let the other go. 

*

Alexei pulls the SUV alongside the curb outside of a brick building in the Fort Point neighborhood of downtown Boston. Nico hops out of the front passenger seat then moves to open the back door. He holds his hand out for you, which you gladly take, to help you out of the backseat.

“Thank you, Nico,” you remark as you feel Ransom’s hand at the small of your back once he’s on the sidewalk with you.

“Certainly,” Nico smiles and nods, but not before he leans in and says, “You look lovely.”

You smile and thank him and then loop your arm through Ransom’s as he escorts you up a small flight of stairs, opens a door for you then proceeds to walk in after you and open another door into the restaurant.

An older brunette-haired woman is standing behind the hostess station. She smiles brightly, “Good evening, and welcome to Menton! It’s nice to have you dining with us, Miss Y/L/N and Mister Drysdale.”

Ransom smiles in return, “Thank you for accommodating us.”

She motions towards a hallway, “You’re most welcome. If you two will follow me, please.”

After a brisk walk down a short hallway, the woman pulls open a glass door and holds it open as you and Ransom walk into a private dining area of the restaurant. A lone circular table draped in white cloth set for two with two chairs sits in the middle of the spacious area. The room is romantically lit with only two out of four lamps on and four tea light candles surrounding a bouquet of white flowers and greenery on the table. Cream colored curtains are closed over a window to the nightlife outside, making sure you and Ransom have complete privacy.

Your eyes take in five black and white nature photographs adorning one wall of the room, and on the other side are two identical floral paintings enriched with a canary colored background. The room permeates soft vanilla and various foods which are being cooked in the kitchen steps away on the opposite side of the restaurant.

“Your server will be in momentarily,” the woman remarks as she makes her way towards the table. “Please have a seat.” She smiles widely as she takes out the chilled champagne bottle from the wine bucket and uncorks it. She pours two glasses then returns the bottle to the silver bucket. She touches the menus on the table as her eyes return to you and Ransom. “Order anything you want. I’ll prepare it especially for you.” She briskly walks to the door then pauses. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you,” Ransom utters as he pulls you towards the table. Once he’s at the table, Ransom pulls out a chair and waits for you to sit. He gives a grin while motioning to the chair, “Mia regina.”

You smile weakly and chuckle at him as your heart pounds. You take your seat in the chair and feel Ransom push you towards the table then feel his lips on your temple. “This is wonderful, Ransom.”

“Only the best for you,” Ransom whispers as he takes his seat across from you at the table.

You reach for a glass of champagne. Your nerves had been calmed earlier but now they were restless once more. The anticipation for what was going to occur after dinner becoming prominent in your mind, yet you remain focused on the here and now. You take a sip then set the glass down. “I can’t believe you remembered the lavender colored roses. The first bouquet you ever sent to the shop.”

“Lavender reminded me of the perfume you wear. It’s a scent etched into my mind. I will never forget it.”

You blush as a young gentleman walks into the room. He walks promptly to the table and smiles wide, “Good evening! May I start you two off with an appetizer or something else to drink?”

Your eyes glance down at the menu. In all the years you’ve lived in Boston, you’ve never set foot inside of the luxurious restaurant with it’s hybrid of French and Italian cuisine. Your stomach’s doing cartwheels because of your nerves but it also growls at wanting to try the accoladed food listed on the menu.

“Ice water, please,” Ransom answers as he watches you quickly skim over the menu. His body’s heated from his nerves being on overdrive the moment his blue eyes took you in when you opened the front door of his house. He wanted to take you right then and there, but knew he couldn’t do so, he wouldn’t. Ransom wanted to give you a perfect evening – one with dinner and dancing. He wanted, no, he needed to show you were worth everything and more.

“Of course, sir,” the server states before walking away and leaving the couple alone with their bodyguards standing watch at the glass door to the room.

Seconds later the server returns with two glasses of ice water and sets them down. He waits patiently as the two of you decide silently on what you want. You clear your throat and look up, “I’ll have the Pappardelle.”

“And I’ll do the Dry Aged Ribeye.” Ransom immediately informs the server after you’re done speaking.

The server nods curtly and takes the menus, “Excellent choices. I’ll inform the chef and she’ll begin preparing your meals.”

“Thank you,” you and Ransom remark in unison.

After the server is gone, Ransom is unable to help himself as he moves his chair closer to you. He sits inches away and takes one of your hands into his. With the other hand, he cups your cheek and strokes your skin. He’s overcome with joy that you’re still around, especially after the predicament he had with his mother the day before and with everything else which has occurred since he entered your life.

You look at him and smile. “You’re making things extremely difficult.”

Ransom cocks a brow, “Who me?” he teases.

You can’t help but scoff, “Yes, you. We have to sit through dinner and a drive back to the house before we—”

“Get to dessert?” Ransom inquires with a wink.

You let out a soft laugh, “I guess you could say that.” You place your hand over his, the one on your cheek and bring it down to your lap and intertwine your fingers with his. “I’m glad we’re still able to have tonight. With everything—”

Ransom leans over and places his lips against yours. Then pulls back ever so slightly, “Don’t mention anything else. Please. Tonight, is about you, me. _Us_. Nothing else matters at this exact moment, nothing except you.”

“And you, Hugh,” you whisper in return.

Ransom gives a lopsided smile in the candlelight. “I was never one for my first name when I learned my middle name was Ransom. Since I could remember, it’s always been Ransom. Though with my mother, and Harlan, they knew calling me Hugh would get my attention. I stopped caring about being called Hugh, but you,” Ransom squeezes your hand, “hearing it from you, it sounds angelic.”

“Well,” you begin and then give a small wicked smile, “I plan on using it to get your attention, and I think you’ll enjoy me saying it more often, especially if I know it’ll get me what I want.” You pause and lean over. Your lips drift near his ear, “Hugh.”

Ransom chuckles, “What do you need, my love?”

“Besides you? A favor.”

“Ask me anything.”

“Please give Nico a night off. He would like to go on a date with a woman he likes.” You had approached Nico the evening you and Ransom had returned to the house, the night of the shooting. Ransom had been busy placing calls while Nico lingered next to you in the kitchen. You had needed a distraction and let it slip out Marta had a crush on him. He blushed and told you he’d be willing to go on a date with her and it had been a while since he had any free time.

Ransom looks at you, “I don’t see why not.”

You plant your lips on Ransom’s cheek and smile, “Thank you.” You give a slight pause then whisper his name under your breath as you squeeze his hand. “Hugh.”

“You’re going to get away with plenty of things, Y/N,” Ransom declares before capturing your mouth with his.

You laugh and kiss him in return. You two are wrapped up in one another, you don’t hear the server enter minutes later carrying your meals. He clears his throat, which causes you and Ransom to jump at the sound. Both of you regain your composure before uttering your apologies and thanks. The server simply smiles and nods then hurries out of the room, leaving you and Ransom to eat in silence and look at each other longingly as you devour the scrumptious food placed in front of you.

*

After both plates are cleaned off, Ransom motions with a couple of fingers towards Alexei and Nico. Alexei steps forward and when he reaches Ransom’s side, he bends down then waits till Ransom is done whispering in his ear before nodding his head and walking away.

Seconds later music fills the private dining area. The tune is familiar to you as you recall when you last heard it. Your heart skips a beat as you watch Ransom stand and hold out his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

You had heard it the night Ransom took you out for the business dinner. Both of you sitting in silence inside of his Beamer, making your way from Weston to Boston. You smile as you take his hand and stand, “Yes.”

Ransom takes you a couple of feet away from the table and wraps you in his arms. Etta James’ voice fills the room. “At last, my love has come along…”

Ransom presses a kiss against your cheek. He thinks about what could’ve happened if Nico had told him you were gone, no longer living. He would never hold you again, never see your face, never hear your voice. You wouldn't be in the world, _his_ world. 

He had cherished the moments you and he had spent together prior to this evening. The feather light touches, the soft kisses, the conversations. He wouldn’t trade those for anything else, wouldn’t trade you for anyone else. Ransom had been thinking while he ate in silence how he was going to ask you about going to New York City for your safety, for you to stay alive. He couldn’t risk losing you, didn’t want to lose you. Ransom felt, no, he knew if he lost you, he wouldn’t want to live anymore. His only ally would be gone, and he wouldn’t be able to exterminate the rat within his kingdom alone.

_Now or never, Ransom_ , he thinks as he inhales your lavender and lily perfume, as well as searing this night into his memory bank for the rest of his life. He never wants to forget this moment of solitude with you in his arms.

Ransom clears his throat gently, “What if I wanted to ask something of you?”

“It might depend upon what you’re asking me to do,” you truthfully respond. You had asked him for a couple of favors, yet he had never asked you for anything in return. He was willing to give and give while you took. You look at him in all seriousness, “Ask me.”

“I know I said not to mention what’s going on, but I have to,” Ransom pauses but continues, “I went down to New York to see a friend. He’s in charge down there. With the fire and now, you being shot at, he’s willing to keep you safe while I figure who is behind it all. And I trust him, Y/N. He has a wife, a daughter. He’s promised to keep you safe, and _I_ need _you_ safe.”

“I want to be—”

Ransom presses his forehead against yours, “I know you want to be here with me. I know you’ve said we’re in this together. But I can’t risk losing you when I only just found you. You are my world Y/N. I’m not going to let some bastard take you away from me.”

You let his words soak in. “You trust him? Your friend.”

“I do.”

You swallow, “And once you figure out who's doing this, you’ll come get me?”

“I’ll be down there to swoop you up and bring you back home.”

You had told Ransom you were taking a chance on him. And if this was part of it then so be it. You were his world, and he couldn’t lose you. You didn’t want to lose him either. “You’ll be careful?”

“Yes,” Ransom answers, “I’ve promised you no one will ever have to tell you of my death. And I swear no one ever will.”

“I’ll go,” you whisper to Ransom as Etta James’ voice sings out, “For you are mine, at last.”

Ransom pulls you up against him, holding you close against his body, entrapping you in his arms. He presses a kiss to your forehead then to your cheek, “I love you. Thank you for setting my mind at ease.”

You look at Ransom and cup his cheek, “You’re welcome.” Because you know how much you mean to him. There’s a part of you that doesn’t want to break his heart and stay because staying could mean it’s the end for you. And if you were gone, god only knows, what would happen to the man standing before you. You didn’t want anything to happen to Ransom. You needed him alive, wanted him alive. You’re aching for him with your body, but your heart? Your heart’s still undecided but it’s slowly growing to feel for him. You lean forward and press your lips against his, “Please take me home Ransom. _Now_.”

\-------

You and Ransom scurry up the stairs, once you are back home. Your lips fused to one another’s as your fingers fumble to unbutton his vest as you walk into the bedroom. You feel Ransom’s hands traveling up and down your back. He helps you discard your cardigan then slowly lowers the zipper on your dress with his nimble fingers.

Both of you are breathless when you pull away from each other. Your eyes are on Ransom as you feel his hands push down the dress you’re wearing. It falls to the floor soundlessly as you feel the cool air hitting your feverish skin.

He gives you a lopsided grin as his eyes travel up and down your scantily clad body. All you have left is a pair of lace underwear. “Breathtakingly beautiful,” Ransom whispers as his fingers move over your skin, causing goosebumps. He pulls you up against him and claims your mouth once more.

Finally, after all the waiting and sex filled dreams, Ransom Drysdale is your long-awaited prize, and he’s yours. All yours. _Mine_ , a possessive voice growls within you. It surprises you because you’ve never wanted a man like you’ve wanted Ransom. He’s dominated your thoughts, and your life since he entered them. No other man has ever done so before him.

You softly pull away, walk backwards to the bed and lay back against the mattress then watch as Ransom sinks onto the mattress beside you and looms above your body. He dips his head down and places a kiss on your already swollen lips. You reach up and cup his cheeks then let your fingers card through his soft brown hair. 

You smile as you keep your eyes on him when he withdraws. His hands move towards the front of his suit. You sit up and stop him, “No.” You bite your lip then look at him. You beam before speaking. “Keep your suit on. Please.”

Ransom grins as he raises a brow, “Why?”

Your throat is like sandpaper, so you swallow as you look at him. You run your hands up the fabric of the suit jacket, then down over the vest. “Because you’re in it. And it has fueled so many… dreams of mine. Please keep it on. For now.”

Ransom’s eyes grow wide with surprise, he wants to make your dreams reality. He leans down and brushes his lips against yours. He feels your hands traveling up his arms and looping around his neck. He feels your fingers weave themselves through his hair. His lips move against yours tenderly as he wraps one arm around your naked body while his other hand travels over your skin. His own body reacting to you underneath him. His cock is hard and aching as warmth floods throughout him.

You feel elated as Ransom gives into you. You can’t help yourself as you feel his body against yours, feel his weight on top of you. After the first sex dream involving him and this suit, you had become slightly eager to know what sleeping with Ransom Drysdale would be like. You had thought at first it would be a great, quick fuck to relieve yourself of all stress involving the man, even if meant sacrificing yourself to help the bookshop. But then as time progressed and he declared ‘you’re mine’ and sent you bouquets of flowers, you knew part of you wouldn’t be able to sleep with him then simply walk away. Ransom Drysdale would be a drug you’d come back for repeatedly, and no doubt leave you craving for more after each encounter.

Your fingers run through his hair as your lips dance against his. You feel his tongue coaxing you to let him in and you do. You moan as your body intensifies with electricity and pleasure from what Ransom is offering you. He’s your dream in the flesh and you can’t get enough of him. You feel his fingers graze against your slick folds under the sheer fabric of your underwear. You pull back at the sensitive touch and suck in a quick breath, “Ransom!”

“Good to know what makes you wet,” Ransom moans. “You are mine Y/N. No one else will have you after tonight.”

You’re delirious as Ransom begins leaving a trail of kisses down your chest, through the valley between your breasts. He keeps his fingers against your pussy, feeling how soaked you are at him ravishing your body. He flicks his tongue against one nipple than the other. He continues moving his mouth down your abdomen and across your stomach. Your toes curl as he reaches the waistband of your underwear and uses both of his hands to rip it off your body. A surprised moan leaves your throat and the act of him tearing off your underwear has made you wetter than you had ever been. 

Ransom growls at your fully naked body on his bed. _Yes_ , the beast within him shouts, _no one will have her after tonight. She is ours. Mine._ He uses his hands to keep your legs apart as he lays between them and runs his tongue up your folds. Ransom moans deeply, he’s waited weeks to taste you, to have you in his bed under him writhing and moaning because he’s giving you all of him. 

“Ransom!” you sharply cry out once his tongue licks your clit. “Oh my god, fuck yes,” you gasp as an orgasm begins brewing within you. Ransom’s tongue is driving you mad as your hands clutch the bedding under your body.

Ransom doesn't stop the assault on your clit. He keeps going, even when he feels your hips gently rolling underneath the weight of his hands. He continues to moan as he savors your taste. He’s placing your wanton needs before his own, making sure to give you enough pleasure before succumbing to his own when he makes love to you.

Your orgasm is reaching the edge which causes you to move your hands quickly to Ransom’s head. You sit up slightly and watch Ransom eating you out between your open thighs. With the suit still on and the gleam of mischievous and enjoyment in his piercing blue eyes it causes you to dig your fingers into his scalp as a tidal wave of ecstasy rolls over you. “Oh, Ransom. Ransom!” you gasp as your body trembles and you fall back against the mattress, keeping your hands glued to his head. You close your eyes, savoring this moment of euphoria Ransom has bestowed upon you. You smile and hum as you feel his lips return to your flesh.

Ransom deeply moans as you cum from his tongue. His cock is achingly hard, eager to bury itself inside of you. He wants to claim you as his, mark you as his. He needs to know that no other man will ever claim you because you belong to him. Ransom places a kiss on each inner thigh before making his way back up your body. He grins against your skin as he hears your body hum in response to him. _Mine. Forever._

The fabric of his suit glides against your skin as you reach up and clutch the lapels of his suit jacket. You raise your hips and grind teasingly against him. You feel the hardness of his cock, which is straining against his pants. “I’ve waited long enough Ransom,” you gasp as his fingers tease your soaked folds, “please.”

Ransom hovers his mouth above yours and whispers, “This means I have to take the suit off.”

You shrug and smirk, “I don’t mind.” He has given you more than enough to fuel your fantasy when you’ll be miles away from him.

Ransom kneels on the mattress. You sit up and hurriedly help him discard his clothing. You moan once your eyes take in his nakedness. His defined muscular chest and arms is a sight to behold, even more magnificent than in your dreams. He hears your moan and places a hand under your chin, making you look up at him. He sweeps his mouth against yours. Your tongue can’t help but lick against his lips, tasting yourself on them. 

He lets out a guttural noise as he feels your fingers move over his naked flesh. Ransom has waited weeks on end to feel you against him. He sucks in a breath when he feels your fingers find his cock rock hard. “Y/N,” he gasps out as your hand slowly strokes him. “I _need_ to be inside you.”

You nod, and instantly Ransom is off the bed, removing his pants and underwear. You watch him climb back onto the bed and crawl up the mattress as you lie back against it, with Ransom looming over you settling between your open legs. His hard cock is against your wet core. “Please, Ransom,” you impassionedly plead as you travel your hands up his arms.

Ransom reaches down and guides his cock along your folds. He feels your hands wrap tightly around his biceps as he sinks himself inside of you inch by inch. He watches as your eyes roll back as your wet, warm pussy takes every single inch of his cock. “Fuck, yes,” Ransom moans as he buries himself inside of you.

Ransom’s cock has stretched you wide, making you feel full. You roll your hips up, encouraging him to begin pounding into you. His movements are slow at first but increase gradually as you encourage him with moans and hitched breaths. His thrusts are hitting your spot, making another orgasm rise steadily within you. “Ransom,” you raggedly groan as you increase the rolling of your hips meeting his thrusts.

Ransom keeps one hand planted on the bed and moves his other hand between your body and his. His thumb finds your clit and begins stroking it gently as he continues thrusting in and out of you. “Come for me,” he rasps as he looks into your eyes, “come for me again, my queen.” He leans down and nips at your pulse point. His teeth graze your skin then his tongue licks the flesh and his lips soothingly kiss it. “Come for me,” he whispers as he works his magic with his body for your pleasure.

“Ran—Ran—fuuuuck,” you moan out as his thumb drives you wild. You’re unable to resist him as he drives you further towards your peak once more. He’s giving you all of him – mouth, hands, cock. “Ransom! Oh my god! Ransom!” you cry out loudly as your second orgasm erupts inside of you. Your hands move to his back so your fingers find purchase in his flesh as another tidal wave of ecstasy rolls through and over your body.

Ransom feels your walls clamp down hard on him like a vice as your orgasm milks him. “Fuck, yes, Y/N,” Ransom hisses out as he continues to teasingly stroke your clit. He feels your fingers digging into his back. He relishes in you marking his skin as the orgasm within him reaches its crest. Ransom thrusts deeply, bottoming out as he empties himself inside of you. He gives a cocky grin at the mewling sound you give when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you. He dips his head and captures your lips, knowing full well you were made for him, and only him.

You collapse against the bed as Ransom kisses you hard and deeply, keeping one hand on the mattress beside your head while the other one cups your cheek. You weakly wrap your arms around him then rake your fingers through his hair as you feel him gently pull out of you then keeps you glued to him as he rolls to his side. His arms envelop you, keeping your feverish body fused to him.

You unlatch your lips from his and smile. You feel him run his fingers down your spine as you burrow into him, knowing full well you are addicted to Ransom Drysdale, and there’s no chance of running away now.

\-------

Happily sedated from sex, you drift off into a nearly dreamless sleep. Yet a dream seems to infiltrate your mind and unfolds:

_Origami birds adorn the ceiling of the bookstore as you stand at the cash register, closing it down for the day. It’s inching closer towards five o’clock and you are counting down the seconds until you’re able to lock the door so Nico and Sergei can take you home and you can enjoy yet another night in eating dinner and binging on another TV show. Alone._

_The bookshop is peaceful until it’s the last minute, 4:59, and the bell above the door rings, signaling a last-minute shopper. You groan inwardly as you let out a deep sigh. You plaster on a smile as you close the register drawer and lift your head towards the person._

_“May I help you find something?” you inquire with a slight edge to your voice. You were irritated because you should’ve locked the door a few minutes earlier but decided against it. You wanted to get home, needed to get home. You were slightly anxious to lay your head on your pillow when bedtime called and dream of Ransom. He was all you could dream of for the last three weeks. You hated yourself at first for them but the more time he spent in your dreams, the more anticipation you had for eventually driving over to the manor and telling him yes to dinner._

_A hooded figure stands across from you. It reminds you of the Grim Reaper. A cloaked hooded figure with a scythe. But they weren’t holding a scythe, they had a syringe with liquid oozing out from the needle’s fine tip._

_In a flash of blurriness, the hooded figure has an arm wrapped around your body, the needle pointed against your skin. You could feel the sharpness of it, feel the prick as it broke through your flesh. You try to open your mouth and scream but no sound comes out. Your body becomes light in the figure’s arms, both of you sinking to the floor. Tears are streaming out of your eyes as you begin to claw at their chest. You try to scream again, scream for help, scream for Nico and Sergei but there’s still no sound._

_Maniacal evil laughter escapes from the hooded figure as they pull the syringe out of your body. You can’t breathe, you can’t scream. There’s no escape. You are trapped. All you can think of is your family, and Nora. Ransom. His face flashes in your mind, his lips against your cheek._

_You are looking upwards towards the ceiling almost as if you are waiting for a light to appear, but all you see is shadow, darkness surrounding this haunting grim reaper. You will yourself, no, force yourself with everything in you, to focus on their face. You had to have seen it, you know you did. All you needed to do was focus. Your eyes are focused on their face, and finally the shadow dissipates, revealing a face that you saw before when you offered her condolences for the loss of her father: Linda Thrombey._

_Your heart’s thunderous in your ears as her face is revealed. It’s the only sound now piercing through the silence. It can’t be her...yet there’s a profound feeling deep within you, a feeling of knowing this is the truth._

_“Never mess with a Thrombey,” Linda sneers, “my son will know better than to involve himself with the law.” Her nasally voice resonates deep under her skin._

You wake with a gasp; your breathing is labored. Your hands roam your body. You’re fine, you’re okay. Tears sting your eyes as you try to focus on reality. You are in Ransom’s house, in his bed with him. You aren’t alone this time.

“What’s wrong?” Ransom inquires sleepily as he sits up. He felt a slap of coldness against his body when you sat up. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your cheek. He feels it wet. “It was just a dream—”

“It was a nightmare, Ransom,” you gasp as you rest against him. “A horrible nightmare.”

Ransom presses a kiss against your temple, “You are safe, my queen. I am right here. I will protect you from the monster.” He pulls you back down with him as he keeps you wrapped in his arms. He skims his fingers over your skin and smiles when he hears you sigh contently and burrow into him.

_Monster_. The word echoes in your mind as you rest against Ransom. His very presence is calming you but your heart’s rapidly racing. It won’t stop. The final pieces to the puzzle you’ve been trying to solve have been placed and locked in. You’ve had a few other restless nights since the fire, most of them trying to help you figure out what happened.

With her surprise visit to the house, and now hearing her voice, your mind’s able to fill in the blanks. The muffled voice, the shadow’s face. The person trying to take your life away is none other than Ransom’s own mother - Linda. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Campagna - campaign


End file.
